It all add$ up

I'm still trying to wrap my head around how I spent $76 at Walmart (of all places) last night and still managed not to buy the one item we really went there for, which was a winter coat for Lauren.

Zut alors!

I was puzzled when the cashier rung up the total and C must have been too because he asked me about it as we walked away with our stuff. I stared at the receipt for a good minute doing the mental math. Yep. It all added up.

I think it was the grocery items that did it, plus the halloween candy, plus the umbrella, plus all those pairs of socks that I didn't realize were too big until I unwrapped them when we got home. Zut! Zut! Zut!

Lesson learned: if a store doesn't have what you're looking for, turn around and walk right out!

I'm not lovin' it

I've been trying to avoid McDonald's like I've been trying to avoid the ice cream truck, and was doing a great job until two weeks ago. In the past two weeks we've been three time. THREE TIMES!! Not good.

Twice was during a road trip, and then again tonight while we were out shopping. It was right there inside the store so there was no other option for food. That's the thing about McDonald's - even when you'd prefer to eat elsewhere, it's there when you're desperate to feed your child.
'
Lauren has already learned that they serve her beloved chicken nuggets, but I don't think she associates the chicken nuggets with the golden arches. Considering we walk by the arches every day on our walk home from daycare, I think I just won't tell her. Until next year. Maybe...

I scream at the ice cream truck

Well, it's not a great day outside today, but I did hear the ice cream truck a few days ago and spotted it at least twice last week. I suppose that as long as the warm autumn weather holds I'll be seeing more of it for a while longer.

I used to love the ice cream truck. Shortly after moving to this city six years ago I spotted one and was so excited that I chased it down the street like a six year old, with all the glorious memories of my care-free youth rushing back to me. The last time I had seen one before that was probably when I was six years old. They disappeared sometime after that. At least from the suburban Montreal neighbourhood that I grew up in.

I lost my taste for the soft serve treat during the summer I was pregnant, after I read somewhere that it could be unsafe due to risk of bacteria. Kind of like soft cheese or deli meat, or hot dogs from a sidewalk vendor - you just really never know how clean the stuff is. It may have been paranoia, but better safe than sorry when you've got a baby growing inside of you, right?

I had a cone or two last summer when Lauren was very little, but now that she's more aware of the things around her and has developed a sweet tooth, I've been avoiding it again. All she knows is that it's "the truck that makes music." I haven't told her that it's a truck filled with her absolute favourite treat that drives around the neighbourhood, and that someone inside will fill up a cup or cone and even put a cherry on top and hand it to you right there on the street. I would never hear the end of it.

My avoidance tactic was working just fine until about mid-summer when the truck took up a route that went down my street at precisely 8pm, parking two houses away - music blaring. I could have screamed. The bedtime routine of a toddler is a fine art that can go very wrong with the slightest distraction. The last thing a parent needs when they've finally got their child settled is temptation in the form of vanilla and chocolate goodness right outside the bedroom window.

This went on for a few days and on each occasion I would shut the window until the truck finally took up a route on another street. Maybe other parents of toddlers complained. There are a lot of young families on my street and I'm sure I wasn't the only one trying to get their kid to sleep while ice cream was being scooped up outdoors.

Maybe I underestimate my daughter. Maybe she wouldn't be tempted by the music and would understand that we can't buy ice cream every time the truck goes by, as tempting as it is even for me. She does get that sweet tooth from me after all.

Anyway, I'll test out that theory next summer. This year it will simply be known as "the truck that makes music."

Simple pleasure #3

Browsing around the farmer's market on a warm autumn afternoon.

Black is back

I've decided that the next home improvement project will be to paint the front porch railing. The brown is flaking and looking drab and I really think a new coat of shiny black will help perk up the front of the house.

I should have enough black left from last year's front door paint job. I'm tempted to use it to paint the back door, but no one ever sees the back door aside from me and C. I'll put that paint job at the bottom of the list.

I estimate the project shouldn't take longer than a weekend. The hard part is finding a free weekend between now and when the cold weather and rain sets in.

B is for broccoli

Every once in a while I try to convince Lauren that the particular veggie I'm eating is so delicious that she should try some too. She's too smart for this tactic but I try anyway hoping that one day she'll give in. Tonight was not the night...

Me: Mmmm... I like my broccoli!

Lauren: Mmmm... I like my chicken!

Me: Mmmm... I love my broccoli!

Lauren: Mmmm... I love my chicken!

Me: Mmmm... broccoli is soooo good!

Lauren: Broccoli is NOT good for me!

The art of dinner conversation

Lauren has been keen about joining in on dinner conversation lately. Now she'll ask to participate which I take as a sign that she's maturing. In the not so distant past she would just whine or hum loudly to get our attention.

Yesterday C and I were discussing something when Lauren piped up "Mommy, talk to me!"

"OK", I said, "what do you want to talk about?"

"Let's talk about ice cream!"

This was amusing to me because she had started a conversation about ice cream the night before. I suppose ice cream talk never gets old. After we went around the table stating our favourite flavours it was time for another topic.

"Now lets talk about pizza!" She said. She very politely asked C and I what kind we liked then told us her preference. "My favourite is chocolate and chicken and meatball."

I doubt she would ever actually eat chocolate pizza with chicken and meat ball, but you never know with this kid, and it did make for interesting dinner conversation!

I wonder what we'll be talking about tonight.