I live dangerously.

It took me almost four months, but I finally did it.  A feat so outlandish that most would call it being foolhardy.  A task wrought with danger and the potential for mental anguish.

I took both boys out shopping. 

By myself. 

Without bottles, a change of clothes, sippy cups or snacks, though I did pack diapers and wipes.  To go without a diaper is akin to thumbing your nose at the powers above and asking for a blowout of epic proportions.

What possessed me to venture forth with two kids, unassisted and with no back up? 

Craigslist Ad: "Children's resale store going out of business, all books 25 cents." 

Josh adores books with all the enthusiasm that a toddler can have, which means books get pretty beat up around here.  His favorite pirate ABC book has been torn and taped up so often that I need to go buy another one.  I'm getting rather good at book restoration, but when pages get torn repeatedly into multiple pieces, there isn't much I can do.  So when I saw the ad, I knew that I couldn't pass it up.  Since the store only had limited hours that fit with my schedule, I packed both boys into the car and zoomed off before closing.  Armed with only a baby sling, an umbrella stroller and the itouch, I got a few outfits and as many books as I could before the boys' crankiness dictated it was time to return home.

Here's the haul: 14 books, a brand new 5T sleeper, new button up shirt, onesie and two more outfits not pictured for $12.62.

So now that I've made my maiden two-child-solo voyage, am I confident enough to start taking them out on a regular basis?

Do I look crazy to you?  Wait a second... don't answer that. 

I foresee many more late-night grocery shopping trips in my immediate future.  I was about to start telling you about all the crazy people you see at the grocery store at 10pm at night, like the biker-grandpa who was wearing a top that pretty much consisted of only two strings, but then I realized that someone could probably include me in their blog post about the weirdos shopping late at night.

        "There was a woman, meandering around with this blissed-out look and I could only think that this was the first time today someone wasn't whining at her, or screaming in her ear, or crying for 'Green Eggs & Ham' to be read for the billionth time.  No wonder she took five minutes to pick out two avocados."

I figure I'll be able to go out regularly in public without the backup of another adult in probably four years or so.  Until then, I've found that being a hermit is surprisingly easy.