Since having children my relationship with ‘the supermarket’ has changed somewhat.
In the early days I would go for a full shop, but as a breastfeeding mother this was difficult. On one occasion it took me 2 hours to get round, at which point my baby was crying so hard that I had to abandon my half full trolley and to a young shelf stackers shock I shouted “I’m going to breastfeed my baby in the car park. Watch this trolley”. He instantly went red and off I went. I returned to find the trolley but no shelf stacker.
With 2 children in the supermarket my outings fare no better. Firstly there is the argument about who sits in the trolley, closely followed by ‘red faced and screaming on the floor’ tantrum about who holds the shopping list … this all before we’ve entered the supermarket. Once inside whichever child is not in the trolley decides to bolt off in search of an item on the list, failing to tell me what or where it is causing me to race round looking for the child in a panic … and then one of them invariably breaks something whilst ‘helping’ to put it into the trolley.
Last month I did an emergency shop which involved a 5 minute dash round the supermarket because there was no bread or milk in the house. I proudly managed to get to the checkout with no incident. There were three checkouts, all busy. I had one person in front of me, three behind me when I heard someone say in a very loud voice ‘Mummy, I need a poo’. The next 60 seconds is a blur. Everyone turned to look as she said it again, but louder. At the moment she said it for the second time her brother bolted for the sweet shelf. I was pulling the 2 and a half year old away from the sweets, whilst telling the 4 year old to ‘hold it in’. She was shouting ‘I can’t, I can’t’. Glowing from embarrassment I was weighing up whether we needed milk and bread more than a follow through. The woman on the checkout scanned everything at top speed and I threw the money at her telling her to keep the change as we fled the supermarket. We rushed across the car park with the 4 year old clutching her bottom and me looking for a suitable bush when she suddenly announced nonchalantly that she no longer needed a poo.
On one occasion we had just completed the shopping and I was contemplating going home and drinking a whole bottle of gin. In the car park the 4 year old was in full whinge mode due to me telling (lying to) her that the hideous ride outside the supermarket which requires 1 golden coin for 15 seconds of movement and crap music was out of order. Having dragged her to the car I decided that the best plan of action was to trap her in her car seat whilst I unloaded the shopping. This I did. Wrestling a rigid screaming child into a car seat takes time, patience and strength. Pleased with myself I started to shut the door when I was tapped on the shoulder … by an old aged pensioner holding the trolley which contained my 2 and a half year old and my weekly shopping which he informed me had rolled across the car park.
I now use online shopping … otherwise we’d starve.
In the early days I would go for a full shop, but as a breastfeeding mother this was difficult. On one occasion it took me 2 hours to get round, at which point my baby was crying so hard that I had to abandon my half full trolley and to a young shelf stackers shock I shouted “I’m going to breastfeed my baby in the car park. Watch this trolley”. He instantly went red and off I went. I returned to find the trolley but no shelf stacker.
With 2 children in the supermarket my outings fare no better. Firstly there is the argument about who sits in the trolley, closely followed by ‘red faced and screaming on the floor’ tantrum about who holds the shopping list … this all before we’ve entered the supermarket. Once inside whichever child is not in the trolley decides to bolt off in search of an item on the list, failing to tell me what or where it is causing me to race round looking for the child in a panic … and then one of them invariably breaks something whilst ‘helping’ to put it into the trolley.
Last month I did an emergency shop which involved a 5 minute dash round the supermarket because there was no bread or milk in the house. I proudly managed to get to the checkout with no incident. There were three checkouts, all busy. I had one person in front of me, three behind me when I heard someone say in a very loud voice ‘Mummy, I need a poo’. The next 60 seconds is a blur. Everyone turned to look as she said it again, but louder. At the moment she said it for the second time her brother bolted for the sweet shelf. I was pulling the 2 and a half year old away from the sweets, whilst telling the 4 year old to ‘hold it in’. She was shouting ‘I can’t, I can’t’. Glowing from embarrassment I was weighing up whether we needed milk and bread more than a follow through. The woman on the checkout scanned everything at top speed and I threw the money at her telling her to keep the change as we fled the supermarket. We rushed across the car park with the 4 year old clutching her bottom and me looking for a suitable bush when she suddenly announced nonchalantly that she no longer needed a poo.
On one occasion we had just completed the shopping and I was contemplating going home and drinking a whole bottle of gin. In the car park the 4 year old was in full whinge mode due to me telling (lying to) her that the hideous ride outside the supermarket which requires 1 golden coin for 15 seconds of movement and crap music was out of order. Having dragged her to the car I decided that the best plan of action was to trap her in her car seat whilst I unloaded the shopping. This I did. Wrestling a rigid screaming child into a car seat takes time, patience and strength. Pleased with myself I started to shut the door when I was tapped on the shoulder … by an old aged pensioner holding the trolley which contained my 2 and a half year old and my weekly shopping which he informed me had rolled across the car park.
I now use online shopping … otherwise we’d starve.
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1 comment:
I feel your pain, honey! Thanks for pointing me in this direction - great post!
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