The Evolution of Grocery Shopping

I know lots of people dread the grocery shopping chore, but in our house, it's always been our "thing."

We've been doing it as a family since my wife and I were first dating. The Sunday morning tradition always began with a perusal of new recipes in new cookbooks to create an extensive shopping list, and it continued at the store with a cup of coffee and a leisurely stroll through produce.

It used to be other shoppers that made my blood boil. The soup aisle is notorious for folks parking three cars wide to search for the impossible-to-find Progresso Light Minestrone.

But then Will was born. Our routine changed slightly in a few ways. (And I found other things that made my blood pressure sky rocket.)

Our sunday mornings started a little earlier, since Will's alarm clock went off at 5:30 every day of the week. It was fairly easy to put him in his pumpkin seat and cruise the empty store that early in the morning (Starbucks red eye coffee in hand), despite the fish counter grumbling at us (we think their latest "Fish Market Hours 9 a.m.-9 p.m. Daily" sign is a direct result of our early morning salmon orders).

But then Will graduated to the car cart. Its issues don't need to be explained.

And then Reid came along.

Suddenly, what was once pleasant grocery shopping is more frustrating than ever. I'll take slow pokes mulling diet soup choices any day over the amount of whining I have to endure in the middle of a grocery store.

Let's start with that formerly extensive grocery list full of new recipes from cookbooks. Those cookbooks are still in boxes in our basement from last summer's move, and we have a weekly rotation of tacos, pasta, and soup. We don't even need a list.

The boys argue over who gets to sit in the car cart (since now they both don't fit together). There are little sneaky hands who find--and often unwrap--candy in the checkout that we then have to purchase. I have eaten so many sleeves of Rolos as a result of this. (But I feel it's my duty, after all, to go ahead and consume them. I'd hate to see them go to waste.)

Back in the day when they both fit in here. Barely.

And the free cookies. Every time I see a bakery lady standing next to an empty customer cookie dome, I want to ask her what on earth she thinks she's doing. I mean, it's EMPTY. You think free asparagus spears in produce is going to appease these kids?

And the balloons. If they don't pop before we leave the store, then they get sucked out of the moonroof of the car, or popped as soon as we get home. (But I do thank the fine people at Kroger for providing me with an unending supply of chip clips which they use as balloon weights.)

There have been at least two occasions in which we have abandoned a full cart mid-aisle, because we couldn't beat the clock against toddler meltdowns. Or lunchtime.

(Had they just restocked the cookie container, we may have made it...)

But this Sunday event, it's our tradition.

There will come a time when the boys will both be snoozing past noon and will miss the trip. Or a day when a baseball game conflicts and one parent will be making that trip solo (and if it's my wife, then she will feel like she is on vacation).

But if it's me, I will miss this current routine, car cart arguments and all.

It's what we do.

The day when I can stroll and sip a hot coffee will mean that my family isn't with me, and no matter my frustrations in what the present grocery trip is like, the thought of the future trips makes me, well, nostalgic already.

-Greg

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Renovation Realities

If you follow my wife on her various social media accounts, you know we are a family of DIYers. The addiction started when we sodded and landscaped the tiny backyard of our first house.

And we were renters…

This love carried over to the next house we purchased, which I insisted be a fixer upper, and we ended up renovating the entire thing. Okay, HGTV did help us out with an amazing three-day whirlwind master suite makeover that showed viewers that I am incredibly awkward in front of a camera, and my wife prefers to describe everything as “awesome.”

Anyway, prior to having children, the most difficult part of each project tended to be the first five minutes. We had to have at least one disagreement over design or execution and then we worked like a well-oiled machine (for the most part).

As we had each of our two children, renovations became more and more difficult. It was hard enough negotiating time with animals, like when an 80-lb lab decided to walk on freshly stained hardwood floors…

…but with kids, it was damn near impossible to carve out the needed hours, let alone minutes, without waking someone up from a nap, feeding someone, changing diapers, breaking up fights…you get the idea.

Smash-cut to our winter break this year. About a week before Christmas, the shower pan in our new-to-us-lived-there-five-months-house decided it was time to crack and leak into the family room below. Chances are it had been leaking for years, but it was the hole I poked in a water spot on the family room ceiling below that caused the oldest to rush into the bathroom the next morning shouting “Daddy! Remember that hole you poked? There’s water coming out of it when you turn the shower on!”

Expletives.

This was to be our first major reno project in a house with two kids: a complete gut job of the shower, plumbing a new shower valve and installing additional lighting, followed by tile on the floor and walls.

Cue the Renvoation Realities theme song running through our heads. (You can hear it here. This isn't us, but it's funny.)

Not everyone likes to tackle the mess that a DIY project can make, but I’ve come up with a few keys to a successful family project should you decide one weekend you really are tired of how small your kitchen is and it has to go and you have more than one child tugging at your pant leg for a pack of fruit snacks:

1.        As with everything parenting, a team approach works best. Both partners need to be involved with the project, and that means finding things for everyone to do. Kristin is an expert painter. She’s also a lot better than me when it comes to detail work – like setting the tile. I am probably (read: absolutely and entirely) better suited at the heavy lifting things like demolition, framing and drywall, and electrical and plumbing. That said, one person can’t be the babysitter all of the time.

2.        Be patient. Whatever you budget for time or money for a project, double or even triple it. You aren’t going to remodel that kitchen over a long weekend!

3.         Expect to get messy. Kids, parents, animals. Everyone. Someone is going to sit in the paint tray or put their hands in the drywall mud, and it will inevitably end up on a surface you can’t clean easily. Like carpet. Or pillow cases.

4.         It’s not going to go smoothly. It’s never as easy as HGTV makes it look (we will never watch one of those programs the same again!). But you will have great stories to tell.

5.        If you can’t laugh at yourself, what can you laugh at? A flooded family room is funny. Eventually.

But for me, the DIY is more than just trying to save a buck. This DIY love is in my genes. My grandfather, Elmer, while painting the siding on his house, balanced himself precariously outside a third story window on a board.

Providing counterweight? My dad and his brother, sitting on the other end.

Growing up, I always helped my dad around the house with repair projects. He showed me how to build a sturdy workbench and properly use an expletive when you hit your thumb with a hammer. 

It’s a childhood experience I remember fondly, and now that I am a father myself, I can only hope that my boys look back and have the same memories (they've certainly picked up an expletive or two, unfortunately). Bonus if they carry on the family DIY traditions. 

My oldest has already shown his eagerness in wanting to help and learn, even if it is just climbing the stepladder and cleaning it furiously with an entire bottle of Windex.

Or handing me a wrench when I need a screw driver.

Or smearing thin-set all over his clothes.

Well, a dad can dream anyway.

(PS, here is our brand new shower...planned for one week of work...actually took three):

-Greg