Friday, May 27, 2011

A cart full of children!

Did you guess it? Grocery shopping with your children. You only have to go once to the grocery store with a minimum of two kids to know that you want to do this as little as possible. I now try to go with my children only when I know I can qualify for the “under 20 items” line.

These experiences could classify in either category: funniest, most embarrassing, or most memorable. My infant, Collin, is a good baby but does spit-up a lot. Forgetting or deciding to not bring a diaper bag and taking a spitter along with you in public just don’t go hand in hand. But my carefree side tends to do this every other time I leave the house. One time at the grocery store I took 4 month old Collin out of the car seat to help distract him. First bad idea. I was left with a car seat serving no purpose and obstructing my view, one hand/arm to push or pull the cart and shop with, the other getting achy by the minute from shifting and holding Collin, and still having to deal with a three year old eating a dripping ice-cream cone. Was I really getting any shopping done? I was walking down the meat section when Collin made his record amount of spit up in one spew. I was drenched, literally. I reached down in the cart to grab the… oh wait there wasn’t a diaper bag. I fortunately found some wipes that were gratis for clean up after handling the meat so I cleaned up what was on the floor and attempted to clean my shirt. This was no use since I was just making my shirt more wet. I decided to drape Collin’s blanket around my entire front side and made sure to still hold him, though my arm felt like it would fall off, so to look as if it was Collin that had need of the blanket. Funny side note: Collin isn’t a cuddler so he didn’t look at all attached to the large blanket display.

Another time at the same grocery store Collin had a blow out. I went to grab my diaper bag, which I felt so cool doing because I felt like I was proving to be a mother ready for anything. While holding Collin awkwardly some people communicated through their smile that they knew exactly why I was holding him that way. We three made it to the bathroom fairly smoothly still feeling confident and proud of myself for having in hand the diaper bag. Well after laying Collin down I realized that I was well stocked with wipes but had no diaper. I failed again. I had to hall my children back out to ask a young customer service worker that I needed diapers. I should have asked a lady but no I asked the young male bachelor with obviously no experience in purchasing diapers to go get me a certain brand and size of diapers. Mind you I am still holding Collin awkwardly to not get the mess that had by now soiled his clothes onto mine. What was Clayton doing during all of this? I don’t think I cared but I did make sure that he made it home with me. So I made it back to the bathroom but now Collin was screaming from the whole drama of changing him. I had a screaming infant and Clayton running back and forth in the bathroom. I had to give Collin a scrub in the sink, which had a sensor faucet so it took longer to get him all clean. I know of one lady who came in and she just looked at me like I was crazy.

What did I learn but probably still don’t implement all of the time? Always check the diaper bag for necessities before I leave the house, make sure the diaper bag makes it into the store with me, and a bonus, bring an emergency t-shirt for myself.

3 comments:

Natalie said...

You'll get the hang of it. It is a whole different mind-set, isn't it?!

Spenny and Nellie Morris said...

Hilarious! I think we've all been there in one way or another. We've had some very interesting store experiences. It's a ton different now. Grace just sits up and is pretty content and Logan actually stays by me a little better now. But soon I'm sure Grace will be in the stage where she wants to get down and walk everywhere....awesome! Yah, we just keep our errands short!!

Anonymous said...

Motherhood--very complicated. No wonder women become so good at multitasking. Love, Mom