My, What Big Feet You Have!

"The better to kick mud all over your pants right before we go to the grocery store," says the hellacious Helena as she attempts to get into the car. I use the word attempt loosely, as she pretty much stepped into Jordon's Jeep and faceplanted herself onto the floor of the backseat. Unwilling to get up, she let me tug and pull on any available extremities to get her back upright, as she laughed with glee. Needless to say, my khaki pants were left damp and mud-covered by her boots.

When I finally was able to yank her out of the car and get her standing again, I went to lift her back into the car.

*grunt*

No luck. Try again.

*grrrrrrruuuuuuuuuunnnnnnnttttttttttt*

I'm lucky I didn't snap a tendon in my arm lifting her up. Helena has always been a bit small for her age. She's one of the shortest in her class and is towered over by most kids a year younger than her. Maybe it's because of her little stature that I hadn't realized how big she is actually getting. It's sort of sad, really.

Once we got in the store, I accepted the fact that even riding in the front seat of the shopping cart is no longer a possibility. It's true, she has been riding in the larger bottom part of the cart as of late, but only because she preferred to stretch her legs. And even lifting her up high enough to get her into that area of the cart would prove challenging. My little Helena is little no longer.

Shortly after getting her inside, she cried to get out of the cart because she had to go to the bathroom – which she always seems to do the minute we get somewhere. I lifted her out, we ran to the restroom, and she commented how it was as if we were running through the airport. Upon getting back to the cart, I realized my arms could take no more heavy lifting and for the remainder of the shopping trip, I let her ride holding onto the front end of the cart. Sure, maybe not the best parenting move, but hey – I'm cool!

When Helena espoused Jordon to our "flight" to the bathroom, they both proceeded to make fun of me and call me the mom from Home Alone. I'm toying around with this being mine and Helena's Halloween costumes next year. Gotta get those innocent kid's costumes in while I can, before she's onto bunny ears and tutus like the majority of the female population. God, I hope I've raised her better than that.