Do you LIKE grocery shopping? I never used to enjoy going grocery shopping. (I’ve vented about the Horrors of Shopping with Kids before.) It was never something I looked forward to.

Not until my youngest started school.

Oh, I said it. You see, that was when I knew I could actually shop… in peace.

Shopping without kids for me is like spending an hour in a charming European village with cobblestone streets. It’s pathetic, but true.

The fact that I can wander the feminine aisle without someone asking, “Can I have some? What is that, mommy?” is exhilarating.

That I can put a brick-sized bar of dark chocolate in the cart and hide it in the back of the pantry? Zen.

That I can smile (that knowing mom-to-mom smile) to another mother as she whisper-yells to her kids to be quiet in the cookie aisle?

Like falling into child’s pose.

Knowing that I have to take a trip to the grocery store at least twice a week, I’ve started to make a game of it. The fun part is actually at the end of my list and the beginning of the check-out line.

The few times I don’t have to race back for a meeting or appointment, after I cross off all the items on my list, I search for the longest check-out line.

Yes, the LONGEST line.

Why, you ask?

So I can stop and smell the roses?

Not exactly. Unless Sarah Jessica Parker has one pinned to her adorable sweater jacket.

It’s actually so I can see who wore what best.

And find out why so and so left so and so. What she said. What he thinks.

What’s on trend for Spring. The newest hairstyles.

How I can find happiness in six easy steps. How I can stay fit in five minutes a day.

And so I can read all about Lena Dunham, and see how cute she looks in her photo shoot in Vogue.

Yes, I am one of those women who shamelessly flips through magazines while waiting in the check-out line. I’m a marketer’s dream…in the market.

And I enjoy every minute of it.

I think of it as junk food for the brain.

I try to suck in as much information as I can in a matter of minutes. And as soon as I notice that the lady in front of me has enough items to feed a soccer team, I head straight for something like O, Marie Claire, In Style, Vogue, Real Simple, People or US Weekly. I rarely read OK magazine, because, and mark my words, they feature mostly lies. But People and US Weekly? Now these guys are the bomb. They’re practically the kings of truth (especially when it comes to useless information).

I am a maniac. A maniac..for magazines.

Call me old-fashioned, but I still like to hold the glossy pages in my hands rather than digest it all online.

Just as the check-out line thins out, and the white-haired woman has finished counting her manila envelope of coupons, I realize it’s almost time. Just as I’m desperately trying to find out Oprah’s secret to feeling and looking good, I know it’s time. Time to say goodbye to the pages that make my brain smile and hello to the teen behind the cash register. It’s time to start lining up my groceries on the conveyer belt. So I buy one magazine. Just one.

And as soon as I get home, I hide the magazine away. And then, when everyone else is reading or drawing or watching TV, I open it up and happily consume every last page…along with my secret stash of dark chocolate.

I took my daughter on a “girls’ shopping day” recently. We used the excuse that we had to stock up on long underwear and other necessities to help get through the rest of this bitterly cold New England winter. It’s the truth. Well, what can I say, as a native Texan, I truly believe in the power of retail therapy, (as long as what you’re buying is on sale).

So off we went, listening to tunes from Pitch Perfect. (And in case you’re wondering, I sang along too.) I have to say we enjoyed our day out. I realize that in a few short years, going shopping with mom is going to be more “torture” than a “treat” for my daughter even if it includes an entourage of friends and a stop at the local frozen yogurt shop. So I celebrated her still being nine and we drove to Garden City with big smiles on our faces.

We had a ball, walking around the adorable shops, trying on sunglasses and scarves, smelling candles and gathering home design and fashion ideas.

Then suddenly, like a sugar crash following a Pink Berry frozen yogurt with chocolate drops, my mood changed. The moment we walked into a store that was one of my favorites in my 20’s and 30’s, the ugly truth came to me.

The mannequins looked anemic.

Every skirt was too short.

Every top was way too trendy.

And every pair of skinny jeans looked like they were made for an American Girl doll.

Whether I wanted to believe it or not, I had outgrown this store, and it had outgrown me too.

You know you’ve outgrown your favorite clothing store when:

1. The sales associates don’t even bother to make eye contact with you.
2. You are never greeted with a friendly, “May I help you?” because every sales associate (that looks 14) can tell you’re 20 years and two dress sizes beyond their target customer.
3. You try on one pair of “stretchy skinny jeans” and get depressed.
4. Nothing fits no matter what you try on. And if it does, it makes you look like something that begins with the letter “h” and rhymes with “looker”.
5. The horrid lights in the fitting room accentuates every lump, every dimple and cellulite you didn’t even know you had.
6. Even the pieces on the sales rack no longer appeal to you.
7. If you attempted to tie a “skinny belt” around your waist as many times as they tie it around the anorexic mannequins, you would embarrass yourself even more because you’d soon be surrounded by paramedics on the dressing room floor.
8. The sales associate announces that all regularly priced button-down shirts are 20% off, but she doesn’t share this information with you. She shares it with the 20-year-olds walking around the store.
9. Even the headbands are too tight for your head.
10. You walk in and out without buying ANYTHING.

Oh boy, it’s almost Valentine’s Day! And my dad’s birthday! Happy birthday, dad!

Do you do anything out of the ordinary on Valentine’s Day?

We do something silly every year. My husband and I have been married for 22 years. I realize we’re not old pharts yet, but we do tend to get a little tired of the same-old, same-old every Valentine’s Day. We go all-out for birthdays, Christmas and our anniversary. But Valentine’s Day, not so much. We actually treat it like opposite day.

You see, my husband has a quick, dry wit. He likes to use Valentine’s Day as an opportunity to give me the cheesiest Infomercial-inspired gag gift possible. Through the years, he has given me a Snuggie (with a free reading light), Pajama Jeans, roses from the gas station, an As Seen on TV-featured “Ahh Bra” and the Time/Life Country Love Songs collection, which I still keep (and play) in my car…to everyone’s dismay.

I can’t wait to see what he’s getting me this year. I’m secretly hoping for a pair of these. Oh yes, they are As Seen on TV’s super-spectacular Slimming Sauna Shorts: http://www.asseenontv.com/slimming-sauna-shorts/detail.php?p=370074&v=fitness