Collected Notes from Our Overly-Ambitious Trip to Whole Foods | #NaBloPoMo

When I lived in California, a Whole Foods went up about ten minutes from our apartment. I had never had a Whole Foods near me before, and when this one opened, it was love. Other locations I had been to were cramped, dimly lit, and so impossibly crowded. But not my Whole Foods. Mine was bright, with wide aisles and an easily navigated produce section. It could still feel crowded, sure, but I always felt I could breathe – deeply, in fact. I loved my favorite treats, the sweet cashiers, the cheese section. 

So I was really excited to take Gus on his first Whole Foods trip, even if it was a bit of a haul. I ordered a happy turkey for Thanksgiving, and I dressed Gus warmly for our trip, and scheduled his feedings accordingly, and we were off. And truly, Whole Foods was lovely. Crowded, but it’s that time of year. People were sweet, especially where Gus was concerned. It wasn’t my bright and airy Cali Whole Foods, but I was pleased enough, and it was only a little annoying trying to nurse Gus in the car afterwards and then scarf a sandwich down before heading back. 

Sigh. This is where it fell apart. 

Gus screamed. And screamed. And screamed. I sang to him and talked to him and cooed at him, but the boy was not having it. My resolve chipped away, and about the time that I started to cry, too, I saw a Wawa and decided to stop. 


(I have spent a good part of my day sighing.)

These are things I know:

– All gas stations should have changing tables. This one did not. I never thought I’d cry over an absent changing table. Today, I did.

– There’s only barely enough room to change a diaper in the backseat of a Corolla, especially when half the backseat is taken up by a car seat. 

– There should be a wedge-shaped changing pad that keeps a baby from rolling into the seat back. Someone please invent this. 

– Your baby may scream bloody murder for half an hour. But the second you get his clothes off for a change, he will be happy as a clam. This will feel like psychological warfare. 

– The diaper will always blow out when you need it not to. Always. 

– Later, when your wife asks if poop got on the upholstery, you will realize you were too rattled to check, or to care. So…. you hope not?

I have seen things today. After that ordeal, I put on pajamas, got my baby, and went back to bed. I told Amanda I might never leave the house again. 

That’s all I have for today. 

(One more.)


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