Every grocery trip with my kids leaves me with bags full of food and a heart heavy with regret. I often find myself pondering the question: Why didn’t I just order my groceries online?
Last week, I ventured into the grocery store with my children after picking up my 3-year-old, Emma, from preschool. I thought I had a solid 80 minutes before we needed to be home for lunch, but as it turns out, that was a naive assumption.
Arriving a few minutes early, I saw Emma’s face light up, “I wasn’t expecting you!” I felt a wave of optimism wash over me. However, as we walked to the car, she suddenly bolted. “Get in the car, please!” I called after her. Instead of complying, she decided to dive into a pile of leaves.
“Come on, we don’t have time for this!” I insisted, but she only buried herself deeper. Frustration bubbled within me as I scooped her up and strapped her into her car seat. Just as I took a breath to calm myself, she swatted at my arm. “No hitting!” I snapped, regretting my reaction immediately.
We didn’t have time for a timeout, but that’s exactly what I enforced. I directed her to an upside-down bucket in our garage, where she sat facing the wall for three minutes. As I watched from the car, my favorite podcast chimed in, providing a stark contrast to my reality. When I finally buckled her back in, I was already drained—and we hadn’t even set foot in the grocery store yet.
Upon arrival, the parking lot was packed. After circling a couple of times, I finally found a spot, unbuckled the girls, and made my way across the asphalt with a 17-month-old in one arm and holding my 3-year-old’s hand. As we approached the store, Emma spotted her favorite race-car cart. Unfortunately, it was soaked from the morning rain. “Oh no, it’s wet! Let’s find another one,” I said, but I could feel her disappointment.
As we entered the supermarket, my arm throbbed under the baby’s weight. I set her down and tried to find a dry cart, but all that was available was a tiny one meant for only a few items. Panic set in when I turned around to see my little one heading straight for a towering display of drinks. I quickly scooped her up again and instructed Emma to stay put while I rushed outside to retrieve the race-car cart.
Inside the store, with a drenched cart and two kids in tow, I set the baby down again and told Emma to hold her sister’s hand. As I sped off in search of a towel, I kept glancing back to make sure the baby wasn’t making another break for the drinks. I grabbed a box of tissues from the service desk just in time to prevent a Gatorade catastrophe.
With the baby in one arm and tissues in the other, I tilted the cart to let some water drain out, but instead, I just created a mini lake. I hastily covered the puddle with free newspapers while trying to figure out my next move. Lunchtime was fast approaching, and the last thing I needed was a meltdown over hunger.
Then, like a ray of sunshine, an angel appeared. She had beautiful, curly brown hair, glasses, and was carrying a loaf of bread. When she approached, it felt as if the commotion faded into the background. “Can I help you?” she asked, her voice soothing.
I was filled with gratitude. “Um, yes…” I stammered, overwhelmed.
“What can I do?” she asked, her concern evident.
Just then, a clerk from the service desk appeared with a roll of paper towels, handing them to my angel. I stood there, feeling a bit foolish as they wiped down the cart. Meanwhile, Angel Woman praised my kids, saying, “You are both waiting so nicely! I’m a mom, so I totally get how hard it can be for kids to wait.” We exchanged a knowing smile, and in that moment, I felt seen.
She didn’t see a frazzled mom with a messy cart and two unruly kids; she saw me—a tired mother with an empty fridge and a ticking clock. Her simple act of kindness made a world of difference. It didn’t mean my children stopped begging for snacks or that I suddenly became an expert at maneuvering my cart, but it reminded me why I didn’t opt for online grocery shopping. If I hadn’t gone to the store, I would have missed that encounter with an angel.
To all the moms out there, thank you for being a beacon of light in chaotic moments. If you’re looking for more insights on fertility, check out this excellent resource for treatment options. And for those interested in at-home insemination kits, visit Make A Mom for great products. You can also explore more about infertility and parenting on our blog here.
In summary, grocery shopping with kids can be a challenge, but sometimes, amidst the chaos, we encounter moments of kindness that remind us we’re not alone.
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