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mommyvino-blog · 9 years ago

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I'd rather starve.

I love my children. They give me purpose and complete my life in a way that every parent can understand. I am very fortunate. But if I am faced with a choice of either gnawing on styrofoam for lunch because we have no food or toting my two love nuggets to the grocery store with me, I choose styrofoam.

Shopping with a toddler is the ultimate test of a sane person’s patience level. If you can make it out of the store with both you AND your tiny human alive and intact, disregarding whether or not you even purchased half the items on your list, then congratulations! You win! For real, you win at everything. Go get yourself a double cheeseburger and a beer, you earned it. On my next day off you may see me hanging out by the exit doors of my local grocery store, doling out high-fives and margarita shooters to every parent that leaves the store with their children and no one is bleeding.

All of these strong feels are partially my fault, though. I should have known. I should have paid more attention to the signs that Saturday was NOT the best day to voluntarily invite my oldest spawn to accompany me to the store. But despite the fact that both of my children are currently incubuses of plague and are therefore EXTRA spicy in the behavior department, I thought that getting her out of the house would be a good thing. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

The day actually started off OK. I can’t count on both hands how many times Everlee said:

“I like ya, Mom!”

“Mom, you’re so GORGEOUS!”

“You’re a sweetheart, Mom!”

I thought she just wanted me to buy her a jet, but now I know it was just a precursor to the impending shitstorm that was about to ensue. Maybe I should have remembered that she had already been in timeout twice that morning. Maybe I should have really thought about the fact that immediately after I VERY FIRMLY told her (for the fifth freaking time) to put her milk cup in the fridge, she turned around to face me and MOON WALKED her tiny legs in to the kitchen without ONCE breaking her eye contact until she was around the corner. (Confession: I really had a hard time stifling the laughter on that one. Sometimes my kid is awesome).

I should have processed the fact that, while Kyle was mulling over the dinner options for the 900th time, that she straight-up died of boredom on the kitchen floor out of irritation. (I have to admit, she had a point). She did not move or speak, just face-planted her stubborn body on to the floor and waited for Kyle to get the hint. He got it.

I should have remembered that she hadn’t eaten anything all day due to the annoying fact that she was asking for food, receiving said food, refusing to eat said requested food, then losing half her body weight in tears when the dog ate said requested food.

“Mom, can I have a banana?”

“Yes, here you go”

**Ev sets banana in the toybox**

“Everlee, eat the banana.”

“I don’t want it!!”

**meanwhile, dog digs banana out of toybox and devours**

“AAAHHHHHH COSMO ATE MY FOOD I’M SO HUNNNGRRRRYYYY waaaahhhh wah wah wahhhhhhhhhhh!”

**Repeat scenario with cereal, pancakes, strawberries, animal crackers, peanut butter and jelly, and a hamburger bun*

*Insert mom’s impending insanity here*

Yea… JUST MAYBE if I had remembered all that, I would have rethought my decision. But alas, I did not. And here we are. Here we are at the VERY PUBLIC grocery store with a three year old that seems to have forgotten that the world does not revolve around her peanut body.

It immediately started to go south right off the bat in the produce department. While I was looking at my salad options, a nice lady walks up, grabs a salad, and puts it in her cart despite the fact that Everlee SO POLITELY proclaimed that that was OUR SALAD. Lock it up, you little turd, that’s not nice and you won’t even eat the freaking salads anyway! Oiy.

Fast forward to the deli department. Actually, no, it was not fast forward because she kept touching EVERY FREAKING THING THAT SHE COULD REACH HER TINY TIRANT FINGERS OUT TO TOUCH. So I ended up purchasing two potatoes and an onion that were NOT on my list, simply because her grubby little nubs got ahold of them and dropped them on the floor. BUT I did just enjoy a delicious baked potato for lunch, so I digress…

I made it as far as the pasta aisle before her MAGICAL GO-GO GADGET ARMS somehow managed to make contact with the box of spaghetti on the bottom of the stack and sent several boxes flying. (If you recently purchased spaghetti and are wondering why your noodles are broken in to 100 pieces, look no further. I apologize). TIMEOUT #1 occurred right there by the Prego. How can someone so tiny stretch her tiny arms out so stealthily? It’s a mind-blowing talent, I tell ya.

So after a few minutes of timeout and a firm talking to, we get to shopping again:

*TOUCH*

*TOUCH TOUCH*

*TOUCH THAT AND THAT AND THAT*

*MINE*

*POKE POKE POKE*

*HEY! LOOK AT THAT! *grabs random Asian sauce and throws it in to the cart.*

*COLLAPSES BODY IN TO THE BOTTOM OF THE CAR CART LIKE A LITTLE TODDLER BURRITO*

*HELP! I’M STUCK!*

*STICKS FINGERS THROUGH THE CART WHILE SMOOSHED AND POKES THE VELVEETA*

*MANAGES TO CLIMB UP AND STAND ON THE SEAT WITH HER ARMS IN THE AIR AND PROCLAIM THAT SHE IS THE MASTER OF THE HYVEE*

*HEY! WHAT’S THAT? *punches a box of muffin mix*

(Cue Timeout #2 alongside the Betty Crocker while I longingly stared at the grapefruit beer sitting there on the endcap and wondered just how much trouble I would be in if I just cracked one of those bad boys open right there by the baking soda.)

At this point, I need a nap. A glass of wine and a nap. We turn the corner to see a cart-traffic-jam (a cart jam, perhaps?!) and Everlee, amidst all of her irritation with the lack of movement, grabs the steering wheel of the cart, pretends to honk the horn and yells to the stranger in front of us:

“Beep Beep! Get out of my way!”

THAT’S IT, Mouthy McGee, NOW MAMA’S MAAAAD.

And she knew it. The look I gave her would have melted the face right off of Satan himself. RIGHT. MOTHA-FREAKING. OFF. And after I walked her butt over to the man and made her apologize for her unbecoming behavior, she climbed back in the cart, hid her head in the steering wheel, and didn’t talk for the last 20 minutes of the trip. It was the MOST GLORIOUS 20 MINUTES OF MY EXISTENCE. And as I wheeled the cart with my sulking toddler right in to the walk-in beer cooler, I didn’t even try to count how many people were judging me. In hindsight, I should have invited all the Judy McJudgertons to go shopping with my toddler, instead. They would have understood, felt compelled to buy me a drink, and I would have gotten all my alcohol FO’ FREE. Eh, next time, Sally Jo Judge-A-Lot. Next time.

And after I had already put a six-pack and a handle of margaritas in my cart, I accidentally made eye contact with my spawn and I caught a glimpse of that little twinkle that I know so well. It is the crazy look in her eye that appears shortly before she turns on her ornery and becomes a tiny version of myself again. So I walked my tired ass right back over to the cooler and grabbed me one more six pack….

#i'd rather starve #shoppingwithatoddler #handmeanotherdrink #mommyvino

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