Letting Off Steam

See that room? That is where I want to be right now, in my own personal library sitting, reading a book. But there is dinner to make and I'm still fuming from the trip to the grocery store with my two offspring.

Productive day at work in the home office, after which I got Amelia up from her nap to go pick up Evelyn from school. Amelia wakes up like, well, like Jazzman. Slowly and in her own time. I carry her to the car, limp and whining.

Evelyn is her typically happy self until she gets into the car and sees...the grocery bags. I shop w/those re-usable bags (I'm one of THOSE people) and when she saw them she crumpled. I tried to lessen the sting by telling her we were going to Miss Sam's store first. Miss Sam owns and runs Nature's Pantry, a little hole-in-the-wall natural food store where we get a lot of our bulk dry goods and spices. Evelyn's response? "But Miss Sam's store is not air conditioned!!!" This is not true. Besides, our HOUSE is not air conditioned, so this kid is just looking for reasons to whine.

In Miss Sam's store, they have that just-shy-of-out-of-control thing going on. You parents know what I mean.

We get home. I put away the dry goods while they argue with me about whether or not pineapple is a treat. Come on. Ask some kid in Russia if pineapple is a TREAT! All I'm trying to do is put a little HAPPY in their steps before we take those steps to the next place I'm dreading--the grocery store.

Evelyn insists on taking her umbrella. It is a bright, windy day, and I weigh whether it's more annoying to me to deal with Evelyn crying because I said "no" to the umbrella or because I'm on pins and needles hoping the umbrella doesn't blow out of her hands on Harford Road and cause an accident. Umbrella comes. But of course I don't factor what Evelyn will be like with an umbrella INSIDE a grocery store. Umbrella is quickly confiscated and placed in the cart.

Amelia is still limp and whiny, so I put her in the cart's seat. Immediately she bursts into tears crying, "It's hurting me! It's hurting me!" Apparently, when you're tall for almost four and still limp, the weight of your legs hanging over the edge of the cart's seat is painful. So now I'm CARRYING Amelia and Evelyn is pushing the cart. This does not last long. Now I am at the end of the cart while Evelyn is pushing it and I'm prodding Amelia in front of me like a sick sheep.

A transcript of our conversation would include lines such as:

"Take you're mouth off the cart--do NOT put your MOUTH on the CART HANDLE!"
"No, I'm not buying that just because it has princesses on it. It's not real food anyway, and (boy did I want to say this but I didn't--they're NOT REAL PRINCESSES.)"
"Mommy can we buy pickles?" (The last time we bought pickles they spent the better part of a year in the frig. Besides, I'm walking home & they are heavy.)
"No, babe, I'm not buying pickles."
"But we NEVER buy pickles!! It's not FAIR! We NEVER get pickles!"
"Put that down. Didn't we talk about not touching anything that Mommy doesn't tell you to touch?!?" (I'm starting to feel like someone who doesn't even LIKE kids. It is a yucky feeling.)
"Amelia, get out from under the cart. NOW...one...two..."
"Amelia, stop pulling on my pockets." (I had a vision of her ripping a gaping hole right on my backside from hanging on my pockets like they were a pair of gymnastic rings.)

In the checkout aisle (where I timed-out Evelyn by making her stand in the teeny weeny space where they usually stash the shopping baskets), the angelic woman in front of me paid for her items and then dug around in her bags. She looked up at me and handed me a bottle of bubbles.

"Here," she said, smiling, "My grandson just loves these, and they'll make some magical moments for you and your daughters."

I was stunned, grateful, and didn't know whether to cry (which I rather felt like doing) or saying (which I rather felt like saying), "Magical moments? How? Does it make them disappear for a while?"

Sorry for the lengthy post. But I admit I feel better.