Lesson 5: Always take a picture of the mall entrance where you park
You've missed me. I know. Dry your eyes dear readers. I have returned from a much-too-long hiatus. So what has the Martin clan been up to for FOUR WEEKS?! Craziness. Is there ever any other answer to this question?
Let me just give you a brief summary so I can get on with my much needed big city life lesson. MC started a mother's morning out program, I started a playgroup (which has now grown to over 13 mommies! Go me!), Adam's super busy being the world's most amazing designer, visitors have come and gone, and amidst it all I have been attempting to keep my home in usual OCD order. That about covers it.
Now, onto the valuable information I know you are on the edge of your seat to hear...
If you have read even one of my past posts I'm sure you are well aware of the fact that directions are not exactly my forte. I like to think that I just have so many lists and schedules stored in my head that it makes it difficult to focus on little details like observing my surroundings when doing things like driving or walking. Yeah. That sounds much better than "I'm an idiot and don't even know which way is down half the time". Soooo, with that being said my directional inability also rears its ugly head when parking. Don't even laugh 'cause I know at least ONE of you has been "that person" who walks around the parking lot with your clicker in the air frantically pushing the unlock or panic button.
Anyway, some dear friends were in town and we all decided to go to the mall here in Charlotte. I'm not even going to discuss how large this mall is. From previous trips there I knew to take careful note of where I parked and what entrace I went into. I did everything correctly. I even made a mental note of the type of clothing we saw upon entering and even the name on the little stand housing a collection of brochures. I was golden - so I thought.
You might also know that almost-two-year-olds and malls don't mix. At least mine doesn't. She is Miss Independent and insists on walking everywhere. This doesn't exactly bode well when you would like to reach a destination at some point before Christmas. She doesn't doddle - I know here little chubs are working overtime to keep up. Its just that little legs can only take you so far so fast. Therefore, we typically encounter a battle of the wills. I want her to ride in the stroller, she wants to walk. Now, between a 27 year old and a 2 year old, who do you think usually wins? Yup. In attempts to avoid it sounding like I am murdering my child as I put her in the stroller I let her walk. Sadly though, walking doesn't last long. She's excited. She's amped up on shoes and accessories and wants to run, touch, and try on everything she sees. No fun for mommy who has to explain to a screaming toddler that she cannot try on the Jimmy Choo stilletos she has strategically swiped from the display.
As our friends continued to shop I knew MC had reached her limit. It was past her lunch time and she was having no part of being carried. We had to leave. I told them we would go wait in the car and to take their time. I knew exactly where I had parked and began the trek back, attempting to control what felt like a gigantic marlin now entangled in my arms. When we reached the entrace we had come in, I went right to the spot where we had parked. Only, there was a small problem. There was no car in it. Ok, stay clam. Not a problem. I decided to just weave through each and every row of the garage and eventually I would find the car. After lap 20, I was losing it. My arms were about to fall off and I was slightly dying from a heat stroke. MC began screaming for her milk which I told her was in the car. She then began crying "mommy's car!". The child was mocking me. I was at my breaking point and may or may not have snapped back in a Linda Blair like voice "Mommy can't find the car!". It was at that point MC literally took the keys from my hand and began holding them in the air pushing the unlock button. Poor child is going to think this is common practice when going to your parked car. Anyway, I was convinced our car had been stolen and all I knew to do was call for reinforcements. I had one bar of service and called our friend asking if she remembered where we parked. She said she would send the hubs out to help me find it.
No service later, I see my hero exiting the double doors of the mall and heading into the parking garage. He informs me that there is another garage on the other side of the department store - which is where we parked. Seriously? In my defense, the friggin' entrace to THE WRONG garage was ALSO in the men's department and even had the same damn brochure stand in front of it! I felt ridiculous. I told him I was so sorry and was officially the world's dumbest person. Then I remembered the fact that this guy is 6'4" and had an insane vantage point of all the department store's exits. I felt slightly better.
On the ride home he suggested I take pictures when I enter the building so I'll know where to go back to. Good idea. Then, he threw in that if I did this each time I went, I would have multiple pictures and would probably get confused when attempting to identify which one is the new one . Thanks. (Nevermind the fact that the statement was completely accurate).
So there you have it. 47 laps around a parking garage while holding a toddler screaming "mommy's car!" with keys raised in the air can teach you a valuable big city life lesson. Utilize the iphone's camera feature.