T.G.I.T.J.'s

The phrase "running errands" no longer applies to me. Since my 6-month-old son was born, I would say it's more like I "slow-motion walk errands". This new pace was hard to get used to at first but now when I [eventually] leave the house with Cade everything becomes an adventure of sorts (Will he poop as soon as I strap him into his car seat? Will I strap him into his car seat and then he'll projectile spit-up all over the place and require a wardrobe change?), and that makes it fun. One errand that I especially dread, and have my entire life (See also: the bane of my existence), is going to the market (aka grocery store or supermarket, which I refuse to refer to it as, seeing as though there is nothing super about the experience).

However, over the last few years I have gained a new respect (translation: I harbor less hatred) for grocery shopping thanks to the magic of Trader Joe's. I have shopped at Trader's (as it is affectionately known in my family) for about 9 years now, but it wasn't until David and I lived in San Francisco that we realized we could do one-stop shopping there. Before then we were getting some things from major market chains (who shall remain nameless) and picking up a few supplemental items from T.J.'s. But that became tedious and the major market would always win, mostly thanks to their produce departments. After a successful trip like I had today, with every item on my list checked off, and a few impulse purchases here and there (Vanilla Joe-Joe's? Yes, please!) it really feels good. Plus, I always spend SO MUCH LESS mula. That being said, I will revel in my productive trip, during which my son did NOT spit up once (*pats herself on the back*) . . . until I begin dreading the inevitable return engagement. And so the cycle continues . . .