On Friday, we went to a wholesaler shop to buy some party supplies. Normally, there are business people cruising down the aisles with these out-of-proportion trollies loading on massive portions of sausages and currywurst-sauce or whatever. Unusually, you see a mother with her out-of-proportion sized trolley trying to manevour it whilst bouncing a not so little baby in her baby-pouch and controlling an enthused about- to- be 3 year old. That was not too bad. What really toooooook the cake was: Josephine decided to get toilet urges (diarrhea of note) minutes after arriving. Well, to see the glass half full, I am pleased as punch she never got it while in the car. So. Be that as it may. We didn't have our store card with us, so we had to fill in forms etc. After a 15 minute entry delay, we just went through a one-way boom and Jozie looked up at me, crunched over gripping her tummy and saying, "Mamma. I need to go to Potty." Me thinking: oh no. So I asked the lady who had "signed us in" where the toilets were. To put it mildly (and as we say in South Africa) they were doer-and-gone! Just an arms length on the other side of the boom. And no, they could not (?) lift the boom we had just come through for us. Everything was a one-way with automatic doors that only opened from the other direction. So close, yet so far.This shop has the same layout as Ikea and so we had to weave our way to the other end, squeeze past folks standing in line at the tills, through the controlled exit and .... wala, toilets. It's too much to describe how to manage 2 children in a public toilet where one feels like you can't touch anything. Evie was most uncomfortably squashed in her pouch and throwing herself backwards with protesting cries while Jozie was hovering (me holding her) above the loo. Well, it relieved her (and me) and after we were done in there, we made our way, back through one way automatic doors, the boom, to find our trolley, to start our shop. That was the first time. This whole thing repeated itself 3 times. The lady next to the boom just smiled meekly at me each time we made our way past her again. And again. And again. 3 times. She must have wondered if we had mistaken the shop for an athletic track or so.
Anyhow, we all survived and in the end it was worth it as we got all we needed.
Jozie was also extremely fascinated by huges boxes being fork-lifted up to the ceiling (it's a big big shop) and them racing around with goods. More about that later..
Once home, she played outside on her Puky (balance bike's name) and raced up and down up and down the driveway. That was great fun. I am always amazed at their co-ords. Skimming past cars where I catch my breath thinking "Expense! Coming up any second now!"
Sitting around the dining room table on "birthday -Eve", we were talking about how things would be when she turned 3. Of course a birthday is major fun for a little one and so it should be. That's where the focus is too. But I did take my chance, as a mother seeking out her every opportunity, to say "you know, when you turn three you'll be a bigger girl. And girls who are 3 can even wet their own hair. They can lie down nicely in the bath and look up at the ceiling so that the water doesn't go in their eyes....etc etc. " She listened with big eyes. When I had finished investing in some hopeful future co-operation, she said: "And yes, when I turn 3, then I can sit in that chair" (pointing at Pappa's chair). That's why ("because") I going to be a big girl and then I too big to sit in this little chair. And that's why I also big to drive a forklift. Yes, I going to drive a great big forklift really really fast! And maybe I can marry Spiderman!?!"
(mother and father looking a little gobsmacked!)
