Taking Kids To The Grocery Store

On Monday I took both boys to the grocery store for our weekly shopping. I should have just driven my car into the glass doors and through all the aisles, that would've been cheaper and less messy.

The Boy had made a paper polar bear at school that he was super excited about. Sometimes I don't let him take a toy into a store, explaining that if they sell that same thing there they might think we didn't pay for it. As we pulled up at Publix he said "Do they sell art at Puglix?" When I asked him what he meant, he said he wanted to take his polar bear in to play with in the cart. I assured him they didn't sell polar bear art (but how sweet is that?) and he could take it in if he kept up with it.

The Boy started asking for a cookie as soon as we walked in. Hearing that, BeYoYo started asking for a "kiki" too. "Kiki! Kiki!" he repeated. I told them they'd have to behave for two aisles to get their kikis. Kikis ain't free, boys. Not understanding that, BeYoYo threw his sippy cup on the floor in anger. Then we passed the BOGO section, which had the little packages of cut up cantaloupe. The Boy asked for some, and I put two packages in the cart. Before I knew it, he'd torn into one of them and was eating cantaloupe in the cart. Seeing this, BeYoYo starting screaming "BIE! BIE!" (bite bite), and The Boy started passing cantaloupe pieces up to his brother in the front of the cart. I surveyed the situation and surmised that this could buy me some time, and I started maneuvering quickly around the produce section. "Do you want navel oranges or cuties?" I asked The Boy. My voice said leisurely and patient, but my hands and feet moved quickly. A stranger told me BeYoYo was only wearing one shoe. I assured her I had the other in the diaper bag. Who has time to put a shoe on a kid in a cart when you're rushing to finish before someone melts down? The Boy played with his polar bear.

We carried on for several minutes, them entertained by cantaloupe dripping down their chins, and me speedily tossing things in the cart where they would fit. Y'all, before I had kids there was a grocery list. There was a rough meal plan for the week, and there was a coupon notebook. I strolled down the aisles at a leisurely pace, referencing my list that included sale items and which coupons corresponded to them. I checked to make sure that my coupon for granola bars was indeed for the 12 pack I had in my hand before putting it in my cart, which might have been organized by package type. Now it's a mad dash like the middle of a horror movie, moving as fast as I can and tossing in any items that are on sale. Or that are close by. Or that look healthy. I might as well call Publix and ask for one of everything.

We made it through 2 aisles before they got restless. Ah, it's time for a cookie! I announced. We headed back over to the bakery to get a cookie, then back to where we left off. This process is not efficient to say the least. They inhaled their cookies in about 7 seconds, before we even finished that aisle. Mysteriously the cookies contributed to mass amounts of shirt crumbs but they bought me exactly 0 minutes of shopping. If Stephen Hawking wanted to discover black holes of time, he should have researched giving a kid a cookie at the grocery store.

The Boy chatted endlessly about his paper polar bear. "Look mom! He's doing a flip! Wheee!" BeYoYo continually threw anything he could get his hands on out of the cart and into the floor. He'd sign milk, then when I'd give it to him he'd throw his cup on the floor and laugh. Then when he'd sign it and I refused to give it to him he'd shriek. Another stranger let me know that BeYoYo only had on one shoe. I smiled, thanked her, and told her I had the other one. "It takes a village!" I said, as we sped away.

We saw at least 4 people that we knew, not to mention the ones that might have seen us but walked the other way before we made eye contact. A friend from church, one of my clients, The Husband's former coworker, and one of The Boy's friends all stopped and spoke. Hello, small town. Mothers that we didn't know gave me the sympathetic eyes that said they knew the struggle. As I apologized for being in one woman's way, she said "No, no. I have two that aren't with me today. I'm going as slow as I can because this feels like vacation."

Three fourths of the way in BeYoYo started signing all done. That's the cue for "pick me up. Now." When I told him we weren't all done, he signed please. Pitiful of all pitifulness. Then the shrieking started. That's his new trick when he's not getting what he wants. So I opened a box of cereal and gave them each some. "Mo! Mo!" BeYoYo said, for more. I charged The Boy with doling out more for him, as we moved on to the frozen food section, but BeYoYo cried because he wanted to do it himself. The Boy whined that his polar bear wasn't able to get any cereal because his brother was hogging it all. So I facilitated that between putting waffles in the cart and checking the expiration date of the milk. "Mo! Mo!" followed by "mo" shrieking.

Then The Boy said he had to go to the bathroom. "Sorry" he said, after I sighed. I bent down to his level and told him he did not do anything wrong. Could we toss a little guilt in the cart, too? So I picked up BeYoYo, who was happy to be out of the cart, then I held The Boy's hand to help him get out. He stepped on a frozen pizza as he was climbing out, and I tried not to wince. We went to the bathroom, where BeYoYo insisted on washing his hands too (good call, kid).

How long do marathons take? 5 hours? Because that's how long we were at the grocery store. At this point in the grocery trip people should start passing out little cups of water and cheering you on to the finish line. Maybe offer half a banana for sustenance. Maybe someone could hold up a "almost there" poster, would that be too much to ask?

We were almost ready to check out, but I grabbed a 4 pack of wine in a can because I needed it, and because I didn't trust us with a glass bottle. I had BeYoYo in my arms and The Boy trailing alongside. BeYoYo wanted to get down, but I knew he'd run away, so I was holding him in one arm horizontally. We pulled up to the check out, and an angel from Heaven (or Publix) appeared and started unloading our cart for me. Hallelujah. But then he held up the empty cantaloupe container and asked suspiciously "what was in this?" I told him it was cantaloupe. He said "did you eat it?" as though I'm in the habit of just purchasing empty containers. "Yes", I told him. "They ate it, and I'm going to pay for it." He seemed confused as he put it on the conveyor belt. Next he got to the open box of cereal. "Did you open this also?" MY GOD HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN A CHILD HERE BEFORE? "Yes" I tried to smile at him, while BeYoYo squealed to get down, and I turned around to see that The Boy had his mouth on the nearby hand rail. I asked him to stop, and told BeYoYo he could not get down. He shrieked.

The bagger who had never seen a human child in a grocery store then grabbed from the cart the little wax paper pieces that the bakery had given us the cookies on, and in one swift motion also grabbed the paper polar bear and wadded it up with the wax papers headed for the trash. Time stood still as I shouted "That's his art! That's his art!" His stood and stared at me. "That's his art in your hand! That paper isn't trash, it's art!" I looked at The Boy to see if he'd noticed, and his eyes were big with worry. The bagger saw the crumpled art in his hand, uncrumpled it, and handed it back to me. "Sorry" he said. "I didn't know." I assured him it was okay, then I showed The Boy that it could be fixed. He was fine, and later he said that maybe I had turned into a polar bear for a minute.

By this point the groceries had made it on the conveyor belt, no thanks to me.  I made it up to the cashier, who looked at me and said "Do you have your hands full?" Just because you yell at ONE bagger that he was trying to throw away your kid's precious artwork, and just because you have ONE wriggling, squealing toddler in your arms and another kid mesmerized nearby people start to think you have your hands full. I smiled and nodded. "One day you'll look back on this and appreciate it." she said, which is useless, and implies that I don't appreciate it already.  You don't tell someone standing in the middle of a tornado how beautiful the weather is. I smiled a big southern smile and said "I already do appreciate it. Some days more than others." Now give me my groceries and my polar bear, and we'll be on our way.

When we got home it was almost dinner time. The Husband came out to help me unload groceries, because he is great at that. But I handed him children instead, and told him I'd get the groceries. "Were they bad?" he asked. "No, but they're little and there are so many of them." I answered. They were covered in cantaloupe juice, cookie crumbs, and little pieces of cereal. Seeing my exhausted expression The Husband opened me a can of wine as I unloaded. "Did you get anything for dinner?" he asked, with baited breath. In all seriousness I replied "I have no idea."