wal-mart, again....

Today was an enexpectedly busy day. The truck has been acting up, and really needed fixing. Paul had an appointment in the city, 15 - 20 minutes away, for 9 a.m. Emily and I went, and we had a rough ride. There was a Nor'easter that hit a bit east of here, and dumped a bit of snow on us, too. The roads were very snowcovered and slippery. The truck was going into the shop because of steering problems, and we were literally sliding around on the road. Emily tried to put it into 4wheel drive, and put it into neutral accidentally. It got stuck. We were stranded in the middle of the highway, with traffic coming in both directions. After talking to Paul on the phone, she figured it out, and we were much better after that.



We dropped the truck off, and headed to the closest place to spend a few hours, Walmart. We had planned on me driving the big white van, dropping the truck off, and then going where we wanted. But it was too snowy and slippery to drive that thing. After being at Walmart for 3 hours yesterday, I didn't really need anything. So we spent quite a while sitting in the Subway in the front, watching people come and go. We had been planning on going to a few other stores within walking distance, but with all the snow and slush, it would have meant walking in knee deep snow, or walking in the road, in major traffic. So Walmart it was.



To make a long story short, we spent a few hours in Walmart, then my sister-in-law so kindly rescued us and we went to a few other stores, and to a long and leisurely lunch at Denny's while we waited. The snow was falling, the coffee was being refilled, oh joy. I didn't feel too guilty, but it was there for sure. M. was home with Jon, Charlotte Claire, and Camille. We were in touch with her, and she was doing all right. So I tried to enjoy my forced rest time.



Emily has been stocking up on things she'll need for her year in Norway. Things like ibuprofen, shampoo, socks. She is so very excited, and I am happy for her, but also sad. Camille will be two years old when she comes home.



There is a package under our Christmas tree, and I don't know what it is. It is from Paul's parents. The kids and I keep guessing, and he won't tell.



The four youngest school kids have to do the secret santa thing. I am glad I bought a bunch of Barbie dolls at Kmart for $2.99. Sonja said she didn't think her secret santa friend would like a Barbie, and I said, well, it's the thought that counts. Because I already HAVE the Barbie.

There is such sadness in the world sometimes, I just can't bear it. Watching the people come in and out of Walmart is heart-wrenching. An old man who can barely walk, helping his more feeble wife into a wheel-chair cart. People so poor getting into a taxi-cab, with several 12 packs of soda in their cart. A young pregnant girl with a sweatshirt that barely covers her belly, and a broken front tooth. Little children out in the freezing cold weather without hats or gloves (and I hate when they have socks on and pants, and their pants ride up and expose their little legs to the cold. That is what tights or snowpants are for).

Okay, wrapping presents has been so challenging this year. First of all, they are all in my room, where Camille sleeps. So I need to drag things out when she's awake. And then I can only wrap for kids who aren't here, obviously. And in front of kids who won't tell. One thing that has come in handy when wrapping with young tattletales is to call the gift by a funny catchy incorrect name, so when they go to tell, they don't make any sense. One year I got Paul a car-waxer, and I told the kids it was a steering wheel, and not to tell. Oh, they told, and he had no idea what they were talking about.


I tried to wrap some things tonight with just the little girls here, Camille and Charlotte Claire. Camille was horribly grabby. She wanted the scissors, the tape, the pen, the wrapping paper, she would pick up the gift centered on the paper, and walk away with it. Charlotte Claire was fine though. She likes to help wrap. She gets all excited just to put tape on. I rip the tape, give it to her, and she puts it where I tell her to. Then she puts it under the tree. We have huge piles of things under the tree already. To our kids, Santa Claus is just a nice story. They don't believe in him, although sometimes they, and we pretend he is real. I can't in good conscience lie to them by seriously telling him Santa is real. I remember being so bummed out when I found out the truth. And pretending to believe for so much longer, for my little brother. Then for even longer for my parents' sake, as they seemed to enjoy fooling us so much.

Tomorrow is Abigail's birthday. She will be 22 years old. I was so young when I had her. I had no idea what I was doing. Emily was 23 months old, and I was 21. When I had Emily, I was in the hospital for 15 hours before she was born. So with Abigail, I waited at home for as long as possible, and was 6-7 centimeters when I got there. She was born an hour and 45 minutes after I got there. It was a very easy labor and delivery, although I was pretty scared. Back then, believe it or not, the hospital still had a huge labor room with 5 or 6 beds in it separated by curtains. And each mom was wheeled into the delivery room for the birth. Quite against the laws of nature. When my third was born, Benjamin, I had him in a very nice modern birthing room. What a nice change.

Abigail: I will write about her tomorrow. Tonight, I need to get Camille to bed and get some rest. ha.