a.k.a. The Bologna Castle
Incident
One week, recently, I went grocery
shopping.
I have a simple philosophy when it
comes to groceries – the less often I shop, the less money I spend.
I make a menu plan for the next seven to ten days, check my pantry,
then make my grocery list. Then I go shopping once. Sometimes, I
forget things. Like toothpaste, or laundry soap. And then I have to go
back before the week is up. But generally, it works pretty well. Or
at least... it did.
And then we had kids.
And now... going grocery shopping once
a week, with three kids in tow, is like running a marathon. (Well,
that's my best guess for a comparison. I've never run a marathon
though. No plans to, either. Not a runner.) Anyway, I'm always
exhausted by the end of it. And the kids are usually totally over it
by the time we get done get halfway through
our list enter the doors of the store. Sometimes I go by
myself at night after the kids are in bed! It's like a vacation!
(Well, that's my best guess for a comparison. I don't really go on vacations though...)
Anyway, back to the week in question.
On this particular day, we were expecting company. They were due to
arrive in the evening, somewhere around suppertime, and we needed
some groceries and sundry items. It couldn't wait until after they
arrived, and I hadn't planned ahead, so that left me with no choice
other than to go shopping in the middle of the day with my kiddos.
Not really my favorite thing to do, but hey... I do it all the time,
so no big deal, right?
Well, we got through the non-grocery
sections pretty quickly and painlessly, then moved on to the grocery
aisles. We got our milk, yogurt and cheese. Then we stood in front of
the lunch meat. And as I decided whether we wanted turkey or ham (we
got both), Mountain Girl made a monumental discovery.
Bologna packages STACK in a fashion
quite similar to blocks.
“Look, mom! I'm making a castle!”
Me: “Wow, honey, that's great.”
(She had about three packs stacked up at this point.) “Okay, kids,
let's go.”
One thing that preschoolers struggle
with is... listening. I guess adults struggle with that sometimes,
too. If it's fun, and I only do it for one more minute, then I don't
have to come exactly when someone calls me, right?
I begin walking away from the deli
case. And at that time, Biker Dude sees what Mountain Girl is doing
and since it looks like more fun than following mom around the
grocery store (I can't imagine why), he starts stacking bologna too.
The more steps I took away from the
deli case, and the more often I called them to follow me, the faster
and more haphazardly the bologna packages were stacked! They were
making the most of their time, that's for sure.
Finally, upon threat of jail
time the loss of their afternoon snack, they come running
over to me. YES.
Then, I look beyond their happily
mischievous little faces to the deli case. NOOO...
It looks like... like... well, I can't
even think of a suitable comparison. (Tsunami? Earthquake? Hurricane?
Landfill?) Anyway, it's bad. There are bologna packages everywhere.
(Not on the floor, thank goodness, but strewn everywhere through the
deli case.)
“Okay, turn around,” I say. “You
guys are going back over there and cleaning up the mess you made. We
have to put all the bologna back where it belongs. Somebody worked
hard to set that out, and you guys trashed it!”
We go. We fix the bologna. I can't
figure out where the Beef Cotto Salami is supposed to go (what is
that, anyway?), but we do the best we can. Then we go to find potato
chips for daddy's lunches.
And then IT happens. A nice young lady
stops me and says, “You're a good mom. I saw what you did there,
and I was impressed.” I was a little embarrassed, to be honest. I
didn't realize anyone was paying attention. I said, “Oh... thank
you," then moved on.
And then I thought to myself... “Yes,
I think that was a pretty good mom-moment. Making my kids take
responsibility for their behavior. I can do this mom-thing.” And I
walked down the aisle feeling a little happy with myself. A little
pat on the back. Yes, it is nice to be recognized sometimes for
things that we do as moms that are generally pretty unremarkable.
BUT, just when you think you've got it
together, life happens.
Life, in this case, refers to the
full-scale mutiny which my (lovely) children unleashed on me in the
next aisle.
I'm sure there was a whispered
conversation between them. “Psst, MG, mom thinks she's got a handle
on us here.” “No way! What do we do about it?” “Oh, it's on
now! Just follow my lead...”
(P.S. - This is all in fun. I love my
kids. I know they're not actually out to get me – well, most of the
time anyway. 😉)
They ran up and down the aisles! They
darted in front of other patrons and their shopping carts! They
didn't come when I called! They said things like, “Let's play tag!”
and “Let's play hide-and-seek!” to each other! They shouted! They
(well, mostly Mountain Girl) screamed!
I tried to get a handle on it. I picked
up Mountain Girl and put her in the cart. She cried. Loudly.
>>Sometimes, people, the lady in the
store with the crazy kids that you look upon judgmentally (and yes,
I've been guilty doing that myself)... sometimes, she's doing the best
she can. Maybe show her a little grace...<<
They weren't done yet!
I put MG back down after she
“pom-missed” to behave herself.
And they danced! And they played ring-around-the-rosie! And they fell on the floor! And crawled on the
floor! (Which is just gross, by the way.)
PJ called. He was on his way home from
work. He was going past the store. I said, “Rescue me!”
A few minutes later, my knight
in shining armor husband in dirty work clothes came riding
walking through the door on a white horse in boots.
Reinforcements had arrived! I breathed a deep sigh of relief.
Kids. Sometimes they make you proud.
Sometimes they keep you humble. Sometimes they make you laugh.
Sometimes they make you cry. Sometimes you find yourself celebrating
your apparently awesome skills in parenting. And sometimes you wonder
where on earth they came from, and who taught them how to behave.
At times like this, when our kids make
us feel like a complete disaster, I keep telling PJ that consistency
is the key (even though sometimes I feel like it's not working at
all). I have to believe that as long as we keep on reinforcing the
same concepts, eventually something is going to stick in their
little minds. And later, when we can't be there beside them, they'll
hopefully have learned enough from us to make the right choices.
Next time they stage a mutiny in the
grocery store and I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle... I'm
gonna try and remember that. And in a few years, when we're facing
much different challenges, I'm maybe even gonna wish for a deli case
bologna castle.
Maybe.
We'll see.
"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it."
-Proverbs 22: 6 (KJV)
"Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him."
-Psalm 127: 3 (NLT)
