Swimsuit shopping

So - yesterday I decided to take Sam swimsuit shopping with me. Not a wise idea. But we had playgroup near a Lands End Inlet store (which we are never near otherwise and I love their swimsuits), and I thought it would be fine. I ignored the fact that my child was tired and hungry and took him in there with me anyway.

(Side note: Joe is probably reading this thinking, "She went swimsuit shopping? Didn't she just buy a new one 4 days ago? And doesn't she have 4 other ones at home?" And yes, I did just buy one 4 days ago. But it was WAY on sale ($11 each piece). And the bottoms bunch a little around the waist. And the top is a little loose when I get in the water. But it was worth it for $11. And I do have a few others at home. But I got them all one sale too. Last year. Some the year before. And they all have slight imperfections with them. But if I could just find one that is perfect..............)

Anyway - back to swimsuit shopping with Sam. My first mistake was to ask him if he wanted to ride in his stroller or have me carry him. Of course, he said no to the stroller. And I pretended to believe that he would actually let me hold him and not want to get down.

We get inside and he of course immediately wants to get down. I give him a big talk on how he can but he has to stay right by me, and there will be no running away, and he has to listen, blah blah blah. That's lasts about 30 seconds.

Thankfully I happen to find a chair for him to sit on right next to the suits I am looking at. So I break out the fruit snacks and tell him to sit on the chair and eat them. That lasts another 30 seconds, but long enough for me to grab 2 suits to try on.

Then I see the sale rack. Too far away from the chair, which is fine, since he isn't sitting in it anymore anyway. After he wanders off and I threaten going out to the van to get the stroller, he comes over to the sale rack with me. And then climbs in it. It is a circular rack and he is now in the middle seated on the floor laughing at me. After a halfhearted attempt to get him out, I decide to just leave him, because at least he is staying in one location, which is what I want anyway. I just have to warn everyone else that comes over to the rack that there is a 2.5 year old in it, so not to be alarmed should they reach in and come out with a small hand.

All is good until he starts jumping. I try to get him out, but I am unsuccessful. I am about to get down on my hands and knees to crawl in there myself, when there is a loud thud, followed by screaming. Apparently, someone let a small child jump around inside a rack and now they are hurt - what kind of mom does that? Oh yeah, me.

So I pick him up and carry him crying and screaming through the store. He is yelling "I want Bob!" Do I take him out to the van like I should to find Bob and quiet him down? Of course not. Nope - I use this opportunity of him being willing to be held to look through a few more racks. And then the thought crosses my mind - I have become THAT mother, the one who everyone is muttering under their breaths about, "Why didn't she just leave her kid at home...did she really think this would go well? And now that he is screaming, why doesn't she just leave!"

But I dismiss the thought and go into the dressing room. (He is fully recovered from his fall - a dressing room is far too exciting to just sit and cry in.) Sam proceeds to yell random "Aaahhhhh"s while looking at himself in the mirror. I try to tell him that other people don't like to hear kids yelling while they shop. That doesn't work. So I just keep putting on swimsuits. The yelling gets louder and more frequent. I try to stop it with the "Barb look". Apparently, the "Jane look" does not rival the "Barb look." Then I attempt to pinch the spot on the back of the upper arm that is supposed to get children to stop whatever they are doing, which only gets laughs. Then I cup my hand firmly over his mouth - more laughs. Then I ignore again and go back to my swimsuits. I find one I absolutely love, but then look at the price tag and see it is $105. As much as I want to, I just can not justify spending that much on a swimsuit, especially when I have 5 others at home that adequately cover my body.

I hold out hope that somewhere in that sale rack there is one just as wonderful and if I hadn't been interrupted by my injured child earlier, I would have found it. I tell Sam we can go look at swimsuits for him if he stops yelling and lets me hold him. I tell him we are on our way to the kids' section and just happen to swing by the sale rack and grab 3 more suits for myself. We do actually make it to the kids section and find 2 for Sam to try on.

Back to the dressing room. I tell him to try his suit on while I try mine on. Him struggling to get his shorts off buys me enough time to get the size 6 one I grabbed on far enough to realize that if I try to pull it on any further, I will hear ripping. (I know I don't wear a size 6, but it was cute, and I was hoping the nature of swimsuit material would make it possible......not so much.) He now has his shorts off and is about to take the pull-up off too, but I manage to stop him in time. I put his suit on and let him stand and admire himself while I get the next one on and realize that it will not work either. I am so impressed with myself that there has not been any yelling in this dressing room session, and then I look over and see that he is standing nose-to-nose with himself in the mirror, licking it. Nice. Instead of stopping him, I try on the third suit, veto it, and get dressed again.

I briefly consider making one more pass through the store, hoping I have missed some great deal somewhere, but then decide I have already pressed my luck enough and just head for the checkout. I am holding Sam and he is holding his swimsuit. However, I have to put him down to pay. Not 2 seconds after putting him on the floor, he looks up at me and says with a grin, "I might run away..............." I appease him by telling him to take one credit card application pamphlet off the counter to look at, and count it as a small victory when he looks up at me and says "Two?" (as in"Can I have another one of these?") and I say no and he actually listens.

So, to sum up....we went swimsuit shopping for me, and Sam is the one who got a suit.

We get to the van and I decide that there is NO WAY I am ever taking this child in any other retail establishment.

Then he says, "I hungry. I want to eat." I tell him we will eat, but that I have to find somewhere to drive through.

He replies, "I want to go in and eat." I tell him there is no way I am taking him in anywhere because he yelled too much in the store.

"And I cried," he says, and then does a pretty impressive impression of himself crying.

"Yes, you yelled and you cried and Mommy didn't want you to. I told you to stop and you didn't."

"Mom?"

"What."

"I sorry I yelled."

"Thank you, Sam."

"And I sorry I cried."

"Thank you, Sam."

"Now we can go in and eat?"