"It'll just take 15 minutes..."

Right?

A quick trip to the grocery store before church. With both kids. Just 15 minutes. NO BIG DEAL.

Bwahahha.

So, it started as a simple brain-slip. I forgot that I needed to restock the Kid's Church snack cabinet until late last night. We were running dry and falling short of miracles LAST week. Every time I opened the cabinet hoping I could conjure some sort of "Jesus feeding the 5000" scenario? Nothing. We were down to a few stale cookies, no napkins and about 15 cups. Since I neglected this all week, I had no choice. Me and two kids hitting the store on the way to church this morning.

Smooth as ice.

And, it was, for the most part.

We actually were all ready to roll out early. I left us a full 30 minutes to get to the store, shop, check out and get over to church. Nice! I'm the best mom ever.

For the first time in her ten months, I put Leah in the cart instead of the sling.

What will later be identified as my FIRST MISTAKE.

She was great. Josh was super good, held my hand in the parking lot and stuck close to me. Leah happily talked to Josh as he danced around the cart while I stocked it up with 1200 napkins, 600 cups and 45 packages of crackers and cookies, which by the way, always throws me into some guilty crisis. Our budget is somewhat limited, thus no home baked organic tofu-wheat-soy-veggie muffins. You know, like my kids eat. (SNORT) Nope, just good ol' store brand graham crackers, cookies and pretzel rods for our crew.

I digress.

The self-check out is wide open and I sail through. Josh is helping me scan stuff and Leah is cooing and jabbering to anyone that passes. Nice. I was on track to be about 15 minutes early to church. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.

Off to the car we go. Leah is starting to get a bit fussy. Who can blame her? It's now nap time. No big deal. Our nursery ladies are pros and Leah always manages a great morning nap in their care. Push the cart up to the car, pop open the doors and reach to take Leah. Josh starts climbing in.

Huh. That's odd. Leah's foot seems to be caught.

Hmm....

Looking a bit closer and that beautiful, pudgy foot is shoved between two metal rods that are all of 1" wide. NOT the big leg hole where it belongs. She somehow managed to wriggle her foot into this ridiculously narrow space and it now appears to be stuck. Huh. Ok. So I gently try to slide her foot out. Man. REALLY CRAMMED. Deep breath. Leah starts to fuss now. I try to turn her foot a bit. I mean, surely, she fit it in there all on her own and she's only 10 months old. I'm a thirty-something, college educated adult. I'm smarter than her and the cart, right?

Uh. No.

Leah is DONE with the cart. DONE with me tugging on her foot. So, I appraise the situation. I've got no wire cutters and brute strength isn't getting the job done. Call Josh out of the car. Leah fussing louder. All doors and the hatch opened. I fuddle with the keys to close the car doors. Heavy-overloaded cart hard to manage. Leah moving to a cry and frantically reaching for me. I get her butt back in and buckled and a kind older grandma type asks if I need help. I give her a quick run down and she kindly helps with Josh as I wrangle the cart back up to the store.

"Hi, can we help you?" The very kind customer service lady who we just passed moments ago is now ready to be of assistance. I quickly explain the situation and sheer panic strikes the store. Managers come running, clerks gather, baby lotion and vaseline is being wielded about, ice is being broken open. A nurse is gathered. (Apparently the nice guy that was behind me in line was a nurse.. how handy!)

Now, Leah is panicking.

Several strangers are rubbing lotion on her legs. I'm trying to lift her up. A manager is carefully trying to get her foot free. Leah is trying to grab onto me to climb out but that pudgy foot, which is now even pudgier and very red, won't budge. A guy that works in the store comes over with a slew of tools. A screwdriver. A hammer. A crow bar. Hmmm? I'm getting a bit skeptical at the store's ability to handle this. I'm reaching for my phone, not totally sure if I should call Al or just go straight for 911 when I realize a clerk has already pulled the trigger. About 10-15 minutes into "CART CRISIS" and 911 has been called.

Now, I'm not a panicky type person. At best, I'm thinking the police have to have something that might pry the bars of the cart open a bit. At worst, the fire department can't be that far behind. I'm confident that while Leah is not enjoying the tugging and strangers in her face, she isn't in any kind of immediate danger.

A large crowd has now gathered. Leah is HYSTERICAL. On an good note, Josh is the perfect little gentleman standing hand in hand with his temporary-adopted grandmom who is getting an earful about his sister Leah being stuck.

Just when I thought we might make the nightly news, or at least the local paper, the manager is able to use the hammer to wedge the bars apart (safely, I assure you), and free my little stuck honey. I get her all cleaned up and calm just as three police cars race up. I'm snickering a bit at the response and later find out that the only dispatch they heard was of an "infant trapped..". An ambulance is minutes behind.

No, I'm not kidding.

if it had gone on much longer I was fearing SWAT would be called.

After I sign about 24 forms in triplicate assuring everyone that Leah doesn't need to be airlifted to the local trauma center and no, we won't be filing any kind of claim.. we're on our way. A kind worker had loaded all my groceries for me and Leah was happy as a clam with all the attention. She only had a small red mark a wee puffy foot to show for all the commotion and with the faint scent of lotion in the air, we pull away.

I get to church. Thirty minutes late.

So, lest my lessons learned today be in vain, here's what you should know:

1) Just use the sling. It's safer.
2) Never travel without baby lotion. Or bolt cutters.
3) If you want attention in the grocery store ASAP, casually mention the words "baby" and "stuck".
4) When, in reflection, you realize your son was quite comfortable taking a stranger's hand and standing there without protest, congratulate yourself for bringing up such a calm and confident young boy. THEN, note to self that it might be time to start talking about "strangers".

Oh, worry not, Leah (and her pudgy feet) are still absolutely happy and adorable.







Now.
I need a nap because this only confirms my sneaking suspicion from the previous post.
Life with Leah=non.stop.action.

(Ahem, mom and dad: STOP LAUGHING and promptly remove that "YOU have this coming, Megan" look from your faces!)