I used to sort of love the mall. I took my kids there when they were little and bought them ice cream or pizza to sit and eat by the fountain while I chatted with other mamas and I'd buy them little toys and treats for a well-behaved week and it was fun. I went there to buy shoes and soft sweaters that slid off my shoulders and fancy eye shadows and sometimes, once in a grand, great while, maybe a necklace or something.
I used to.
What happened to that woman?
I went to the mall today and although the fellow who was working in the Large and Tall Man section of Dillard's was as sweet and kind and attentive as he could be, I was hyperventilating within seconds. I got something although not what I'd thought I'd be getting and thus, my shopping virginity breached, I ventured into the mall itself and in about fifteen minutes, I realized I just could not do it and I looked down at the fountain where my kids used to throw pennies and thought, "What happened?"
I just can't shop any more.
I think it all started when I moved into this house. It was like my wildest, fondest dreams had been realized. I wanted nothing more than what I had and even what I had was a bit too much. Or maybe it was simply a product of aging. One realizes, after a certain point, that the eye shadow one bought in 1995 is still barely used and thus, there will never be need for more in this lifetime. And even shopping for others- GOD! I just can't do it! These gloves or these? This pair of tights or those? There are so many of everything. I just look at it all and I think of the factories where it was all made and the raw materials that go into it all and the packaging and the many, many people who have had something to do with each and every product and who have TOUCHED each and every product and I just can't get it out of my head that really, we could all be living far more productive lives somehow but maybe I'm wrong.
I don't know.
All I know is that I am not nearly as cheerful as I was when I was baking cookies.
Tomorrow I'll go out and do the "shop local" thing. And whatever I get is what I'll get and that is all I am doing.
I played with my boys and I got Gibson to sleep for a nap. I am good at that. Owen and I played camping out on his parent's bed and we made tents under the sheet and built fires and cooked hot dogs and ate them with relish and ketchup. He was a puppy and I had to pour his juice into a bowl for him to lap and his cheerios onto a plate so he could eat them from the floor. When he's a puppy, he is far more apt to allow me to cuddle him. I do not know why. He brought me a baby reindeer and told me take care of it and I did. It was invisible but I could see it.
And now I'm waiting for Mr. Moon to come home from the office party where they're serving hors'dourves and drinks. He's getting some brown rice here and some crab legs that I bought three days ago and which are not getting one bit younger. There will be a salad. I am craving salad again. There are presents shoved into closets and I've probably already forgotten where most of them are and what most of them are and today Lily told me that she's so glad that I'm getting into Christmas this year, that it made her sad last year when we went away for Christmas and I looked at her like, "Are you kidding me?" but she was serious and she does have the gift gene, that girl. She finds good presents, the right presents and she loves to give them and where she got that is beyond me. From her father's side of the family, I guess.
I have the boys' presents.
It's so easy for babies and children. They love whatever they get. It's all magic and glory for them. If I could, I would give the Baby Jesus a soft piece of cloth to lay on because hay can be prickly. I'd give Mary a big glass of pineapple juice and a steak salad and a prune cake and I'd give Joseph a piece of my mind for making his pregnant childbride ride all the damn way to Bethlehem on the back of a damn donkey.
But I can't.
Let's all get some sleep tonight, okay? And know that very, very soon the days will start being longer and Christmas will be yet another day which we have lived through and we shall know that we have done the best we could do and that no, we are never in our lifetime going to use all the make-up we have.
Mary is pondering these things in her heart.