There's a Baby in Aisle Three

Coffee.  Soy milk.  Bread.  Eggs.  Trash Bags.  Yup, it is time to go to the grocery store.

Though our friends and parents have been lovely about making sure Durel and I didn't subsist entirely on Chinese delivery since Jack's birth, the time came today for me to make a foray to the grocery store.  I knew it was coming.  I had a list.  I was mentally preparing myself for the new experience of Having a Baby at HEB.

I might have put it off for another day or two, in all honesty, but for two things:

(1)  My friend Jess's ode to the grocery store on her blog yesterday, which I loved.  She and I might share a brain sometimes:  Jess's blog entry about groceries

(2)  Durel is sick.  He's got a fever, aches, and has determined that it's some nasty virus.  He's been banished to the guest room so as not to infect Jack and I.  If I thought pregnancy had made me a germophobe, motherhood has increased it exponentially.  I won't even expound more on this for fear of putting it out into the universe.  Ahem.  Anyway, suffice it to say that our house could use a little homemade chicken noodle soup. 

So, off to the store we went.  We got lots of smiles from strangers, which I liked.  We got NO errant touches from strangers, which I adored.  One mom noticed that Jack was wide awake and commented to me on it.  We had just entered the store and I was not at all sure that I would not be ditching a cart half-full of groceries to flee in about three aisles if he melted down. 

Other Mom:  "Congratulations! ... He's awake."
Me:  "I know.  That was not my plan at all.  I hope this goes okay."
Other Mom:  (knowing smile)  "Congrats.  Good luck."

I saw her again in the cereal aisle and got another smile, infused with her respectfully noting that by halfway through the store, my little bundle was asleep.  Awesome.

To wit:

Victory is mine!  And we will be having chicken noodle soup for dinner (and red wine for the healthy adults in the family, namely, moi).

Time to make the donuts...

--Heather