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Four Boys, Two Grocery Carts and One Suicidal Mom My typical grocery shopping adventure goes something like this. As we arrive at the local grocery store and are parking the car I give my little speech to my boys on our grocery shopping plan while inside the store. My four children appear to be listening as they are shaking their heads and rolling their eyes trying to get out of the car. The five of us enter the store and all four boys scramble to grab a cart. I take the cart and tell them that I am pushing today and they can all hang on. I also am reminding them again, already, of the plan while inside the store. We are at our first stop, the produce section. As I am looking over the yellow squash and cauliflower I hear the ever familiar arguing of my second and fourth sons. “Mom, Nick is being gross” my six-year-old, Joseph wails. “I haven’t even looked at you. He’s lying mom. If he wants to see gross, I can show him gross!” Nick, my thirteen- year-old, replies giving Joseph the evil eye. I take a deep breath and return to the squash and cauliflower. I try to think positive thoughts and tell myself I will not loose my sanity. I hear a man’s voice from behind me. I turn to see an older man with a kind face. “I see you brought your helpers with you today. Are they all yours?” the friendly man asks. I smile and reply, “Oh, yes, they are all mine.” Over the next couple of aisles I once again remind the boys about our plan and how they better stick to it or else. As we get to the end of the aisle an older, confused looking woman comes up to me and comments that ‘she notices that I may need a second cart’ and while she is at it she adds, “Are you old enough to have all these children?” I ask myself how much longer until I see the checkout register. We are on our way, once more, tossing food items into the over crowded shopping cart as I am getting horrible stares from other shoppers, young and old alike. I realize as I am cruising along with the shopping cart that I only have half of my party with me. Hmm, it appears my two younger sons, Phillip, age nine, and Joseph, have decided to take a different route. I tell my fourteen-year-old son, Tony, to go and find his younger brothers and bring them back for their death. Oh right, I am going to keep my sanity…inhale, exhale. Once again I go over the useless plan with my children, which is working just great and I realize that we are three-quarters of the way done with this living hell. I glance at my watch for the time and count heads again-yes, I got a count of four warm bodies; we are all together…amazing. Checking out the bagels and buns a store manager approaches me with a sympathetic smile and offers, “Excuse me, could I get you a second cart. It looks like you’re sure gonna need it.” Ugh. As I am trying to stop my two younger boys from racing each other at full speed down the aisles, each with a cart, another grandmotherly lady stops me to chat right in the middle of the second to the last aisle. I glance at my watch again as she asks detailed questions about each and every one of the boys as she pats their heads and proceeds to tell me all about her six grandchildren in Nova Scotia. Please get me through this I pray. We have done it. We are down to the last aisle with two over flowing carts and I am still on my feet and going. I’m checking out the ice cream specials and trying to decide if one more thing should be piled on top of the already mountainous heap of goods, when I look around and notice it is quiet. I am standing there totally alone with a gallon of moose tracks ice cream in hand and two ridiculously packed shopping carts. Where are my children? After walking the entire store, peering down each and every aisle I discover my little angels at the magazine racks. As we head to the checkout counter I am praying for the “No Candy” aisle and like every week I am adding up in my head just how much this is all going to cost. Too much. We’ve made it. We are at the “No Candy” checkout and as we arrive I attempt one more head count. I notice as the boys are unloading all the groceries they are getting odd looks from the cashier. She asks them out loud, for all to hear, “Do you guys eat all this stuff?” I think to myself, no, I am buying all this stuff for the heck of it. Then she continues to make a scene, “Is all this going to fit in your car?” After leaving the store and heading out to the car, pushing two carts and corralling four boys, I am getting the usual stares from passerby’s gawking at both stuffed carts. I see the car now, we are almost there. Alas, we have reached the car when an older gentleman who is walking past slowly comes to a stop. As he is eyeing the two shopping carts he looks up to me with a forced grin and asks simply, “How much does all that cost?” I am not in the mood for socializing and giving out dollar amounts at this point so I take a deep breathe and say, “Oh, we’re having a party!” Paula Schmitt is a writer and the "All Sports Mom" to four boys living in Central Vermont. When she's not swamped in laundry, grocery shopping and writing deadlines her hobbies include dusting, cleaning bathrooms and traveling to her son's sporting events. She also writes a column, Mommy Mediator, at JustForMom.com and a column, The All Sports Mom, at SanityCentral.com. Paula has been published in the Herald of Randolph, WriteFromHome.com, RaisingOurKids.com, Witwords.com, iparentingstories.com, and several other parenting sites. In between her kids play dates, music lessons and unexpected sports injuries she is attempting to write her first fiction novel and she will be hosting a parenting radio talk show, launching spring 2004. To read more of her columns and parenting tips visit paulaschmitt.netfirms.com |
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