Parenthood on Grocery Day

Every other Friday I do a mega shopping spree for two weeks worth of groceries. I used to go to 5 stores in one day, which my dear friend Craig has been subjected to, God bless him. Now, with my sanity in mind, I do the two little stores on Wed and the "big 3" on Friday. That I do this baffles many, including Craig who seems to think you can find everything worth having in one store. (He's in the majority.) But the truth is, I'm a food snob. In order to eat the way I want to eat, i.e. fresh, local, organic (and affordable,) I have to shop at more than one store. So every other Friday I head out in the early morning to Trader Joes and Whole Foods. Then I pick up the kids and we go to the Market of Choice.

Today, however, the routine got buggered up because of a school inservice day. When I woke to the sound of rain (again) and the swooshing of wind through the trees, my heart sank. This was not the bright start I was hoping for. I tried on 3 different outfits, all to go grocery shopping mind you, and then I fussed with my hair. I said to myself in the mirror, "This is NOT going to be one of THOSE days!" Maybe you know what I mean. That day when everything you put on makes you seem fat or sallow or jaundiced. That day when your hair, no matter how much "product" you put in it or how many types of irons you shape it with, would still only attract a Yeti--at least to your way of thinking. Well that was this day for me.

This type of day can be remedied in only one way that I know of--staying home in my jammies, reading a book, writing something, drinking tea and eating salty snacks. Any other approach will just make it worse and, most definitely, going to 3 grocery stores with my two kids will make it miserable.

"Can I have..." "Can I have..." "I'm hungry, can I have..." "Please, can I just have..." "Are we almost done?" "I don't want to..." Interspersed with "Don't touch that." "Please stop taking things off the shelves." "That's glass. Put it down." "No you can't taste that. Its not gluten free." "Please, for the love of God and all that's holy, stop crawling on the floor, stop grabbing things and NO you may NOT push the cart!"

Patience was coming at a premium by store 3 and soon I stopped responding at all when they asked for something. Not my shining moment as a parent, I grant you, but this was self-preservation. When I wrangled all the bags and kids into the car, I pumped up the volume on Cannonball (Damien Rice--see below) and made conversation impossible. Then I remembered that I forgot to pick up the fish. Of course the phone rang twice and that about sent me through the roof. But you know what? I still answered it! Can you believe that? Pavlov's dog reincarnated. One of the calls came from someone telling me that they had some free sheep's milk yogurt if the kids and I wanted to try it. (Sheep's milk yogurt is not easy to come by, not to mention the $.) I mentally scheduled stop number 5 right after the fish market.

On the final leg home, when the kids had all but given up trying to communicate with me, something happened. Silence happened. All the sounds of the world were there, my focus remained on driving, but there was silence of some glorious, heavenly type that is rare for the parent. And in that silence, I remembered to take care of myself, which I hadn't been doing. I realized how long it has been since I wrote something. So, I made a plan. Get home, unload the groceries, go to my room and write this blog while drinking a hot cup of decaf and eating blue corn tortilla chips (forgot the Lay's potato chips at the store) and delicious gluten free, dairy free, egg free oreo-style cookies that were miraculously made from pea flour. (Kinnikinick sp? for all you GFs) They've been popping in now and again, mostly to make sure that I am still here, that I still love them. I am and I do. I am starting to find my smile now and I might just be ready to face being a mom again in time to make some dinner.

Before you become a parent, you can't possibly know what you are going to give up to be one, a good one anyway. You can't know until you're there, in the thick of it, and by then it is too late. If you are any kind of mensch, you keep on giving what you've got and find a means of savoring the sweetness and vivacity that only children can supply. You let wonder fill you up; you let love change you. And if you are smart, you go sit in your room, on your bed, under your snuggly covers, with a bowl full of chips and cookies, reading or writing every once in awhile.