I've suffered through the usual tantrums over wanting a toy. Crying over seeing the fish tanks that run the length of 3 aisles, which means a separate tantrum each time we pass them. Madelyn's desire to "help me" by grabbing things off the shelf of throwing them full force into the cart. Telling me she had to go potty as soon as she saw the restrooms, which simply meant she wanted to check out the digs and never actually go to the bathroom. Ignoring her plea to go to the bathroom and hearing the sound of liquid hitting the floor and being relieved to see she was simply pouring a bottle of bubbles on the floor. I've raced around the store with a hungry screaming baby because I wasn't able to cram my shopping trip between feedings and then nurse the baby in the backseat of the minivan while my ice cream melted. I've tried to squeeze a trip in before dinner and then have to sit in line for a half-hour because there are only two lanes open and the person in front of me has to contest the price of EVERY FRICKIN' ITEM they bought from the clearance rack. Meanwhile I solidify my "Mother of the Year" nomination by feeding my kids Chips Ahoy Cookies that they strategically sell in the checkout line since they haven't had dinner yet.
Tonight, I thought things would be different. I got suckered in to forking over a buck for one of those cartoon carts that until a week ago swore I would never succumb to. But, never say "never" and there I was situating the two kids into the Barney-mobile. As I was pulling the cart out, I read the sign that said, "Relax and enjoy your shopping trip while your kids enjoy their favorite cartoons!" Yes, I use TV to get things done. So many may disapprove, but if it weren't for a good dose of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse once in awhile, we'd be eating Easy Mac every night for dinner.
For the first 15 minutes, the shopping trip was pretty peaceful. Then, I started to hear rumblings from the car below. They were fighting over who would take over the steering wheel. Then things really got hectic. I was nearing the end of my shopping trip when I looked over and saw Colin with his face up against the window licking the Plexiglas. The thought of how many germs and diseases began to fill my mind and all I could think was, "Thank God he is already on anti-biotics."
The next thing I see through the window is him attempting to take a bite out of his sister's arm. While the car provides a "safe" place for the kids to sit, it prevents me from reaching in and grabbing him before he breaks skin.
The woman picking out lettuce next to me simply chuckles when she sees me knock on the window of the car and say, "Colin, stop biting your sister!" All I can do is smile and say, "He's learning to express himself. Good times."
I feel like writing a strongly worded letter to the makers of those Godforsaken carts and tell them they should make the cartoons they show longer than 15 minutes. I don't know who can complete their grocery shopping in 15 minutes, but I would have surely paid $2 for an extra 15 minutes of Barney.
By the time reach the checkout line, Madelyn has already managed to unbuckle herself and climb out the front of the car and then get back in and Colin's claustrophobia has set in and he wants OUT NOW! I end up taking him out and holding him as I unload the cart. As I put a bottle of wine on the conveyer belt, I feel a secret nod of approval from the checkout guy and the people in line with me for my purchase. Oddly enough I get carded even though I feel as if I have aged 20 years since walking into the store. Just then, I put Colin down momentarily while I grab my debit card out of my purse and he runs off into the Manager's office. I grab him and order Madelyn to get back in the Hell-on-Wheels-mobile and move towards the exit only to have to switch carts since you can't take the kiddie carts out of the store. Sweet Jesus, get me home. The only thing I can say is at least my $1 went towards a children's charity.