Do you know what is most exhausting about being a parent? Nope, it's not the sleepless nights when babies are first born. Nope, it's not dealing with the teething of an incredibly cranky infant. Nope, it's not even working a full-time job and then coming home to care for your two children (and a husband). It's grocery shopping.
Grocery shopping used to be a pleasure in my life. Danny and I used to go and roam the aisles, imagining all sorts of delicious dishes we could make. Now, by the end of our grocery shopping trips, it feels like someone has dragged us over the coals and we leave the store whimpering, and limping, and envisioning a tall, tall, tall, glass of some sort of alcoholic beverage... or if we're really desperate, anti-freeze would do.
Here's what an average trip to the grocery store looks like for us:
"Sammy, got the list?"
"Yup, got it right here!"
"Ready to go?"
"Hold on, I have to pack up half the kitchen-full of snacks, because the bottomless pits we call children will think they are little, unfed, orphan children after being without food for any longer than 10 minutes."
So we load the kids into the car, and Gracie cries "Mommy, turn on my song! No, not that one, the one about the duckies going quack, quack, quack. Now sing Mommy. SING!!"
We arrive at the grocery store after eight rounds of "Five Little Ducks." I grab one child, Danny grabs the other and into the store we go. So far, so good. We put Ella in the cart, and Gracie, in her ever-growing independent way, says "Mommy, I will walk." Fruits and veggies are first. Fruits and veggies are also my girls' favourite snacks. Which means they realize it's been a whole 10 minutes since they've eaten. Gracie is getting old enough to understand that the grocery store is not a sampling plate, and we cannot just eat whatever we want. Ella does not understand this. In fact, even if Ella did understand it, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't give a shit. That's just the way her personality is developing (oh yes, she's going to be fun!). So Ella starts pointing and screeching "Dat!! Dat!!! Daaaaaaaat! DAAAAAAAAAAATT" I pull out her snack (cause I'm always prepared!) and hand her a bag of cheerios. She's happy, and quiet. All is well.
Meanwhile, Gracie is talking a mile a minute. "What's that Mommy? A turnip? In my book the piggies eat the turnips and they're a special treat. What's that Mommy? Mommy? Mommy!!!! What's that? I like plums. Mommy. Mommy!!! I like plums. I like plums. Mommy? MOMMY! One time at Nancy's, I had a plum. And I shared it. Cause we share. That's good, right Mommy? Mommy? Daddy! Mommy's not listening to me."
I'm probably standing over the bananas by now, trying to pick the perfect bunch, and I hear a screeching coming from the cart. Ella has dumped her bag of cheerios all over the floor. I feed my children lots of food off the floor, but not the grocery store floors. That's dirty. So now she's pissed. But it's okay, cause I have backup. I search the bag for the granola bar I brought... it's not there. Where is the granola bar? Oh, for the love of God, where is the granola bar?!?! I forgot the granola bar. Ella is pisssssssed!
What is that I hear? "Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy!!!" "Yes, Gracie! What do you want?" "Can we go see the lobsters, I want to say hi!" So off to the lobsters we go. Gracie can't see them from the ground, so now she wants up in the cart. She gets in, and sees the raspberries I've hidden beneath the lettuce. "Raspberries! Mommy, I love raspberries! Can I have some?" She's waving them in the air, and now Ella sees them. Ella loves raspberries too. And now she wants them! Quick, distraction! "Look at the lobsters!!"
We're finally out of the fruits and veggies section, and onto the meats. We pick up what we need, and Gracie keeps on talking. "What's that mommy? Ribs? What's ribs? That's ribs? But what is it? What's that? Why is it red? I like red. At home in my bedroom I have a red cat. And there's red on Ella's shirt. What colour is this mommy? Green? I don't like green. I do like green. No, I don't like green. I like pink. And purple. Purple is my favourite. Mommy? Daddy! Mommy's not listening to me! I want out of the cart."
So she gets out. She stands in the middle of the aisle, and I have to tell her 400 times to move out of the way before she gets run over by a cart. She also touches things. Every thing. We have a discusion about how we keep our hands to ourselves or we have to get in the cart. When I stand up Ella is going "Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm." Oh fantastic, she's discovered that when nobody is watching her, she can slip grapes through the holes in the bag and eat them without being discovered. Except that Ella is the loudest, most appreciative eater ever, and her ever-loud "Mmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm"s give her away. I take away the grapes. Ella is pisssssssed! Gracie comes over with two boxes of cookies. "I'll get these mommy, they're a special treat." I take away the cookies. Gracie is pissssssed!
We're only half-way through the aisles, but all I can think about is checking out. Forget the rest of the food, we'll make it by on tuna fish and grapes!
We check out, get the groceries to the car, get the girls loaded in, and head for home. Once we get there, Danny and I each put a child under one arm, and stack 10 bags on the other. We make it into the house. Finally.
"What's for supper?" Danny asks. "Mommy, I'm hungry!" Gracie says. "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!!!" Ella screams.
We just spent $200.00 on groceries. But I'm exhausted and ready to just lay on the kitchen floor and let the kids chew on my legs for their dinner. So, I use the obvious response. "Let's go out for supper."
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