I have another grocery shopping story for you. This should really just be a series because my most ridiculous parenting moments are somehow always at a grocery store. Maybe I just spend way too much time gathering food for our family, either way, here‘s my previous post if you’d like to read it.
I used to be in a pretty good rhythm about going to the store with the kids, but lately, with all the chaos in our family and lack of routine, I’ve been either going at night after the kids go to bed or ordering online for delivery or pick up. This particular time I convinced myself we can do this. We can go to the grocery store. I completely psyched/caffeinated myself up, used my most patient, pleading voice with the girls preparing them for our trip, and had our list and coupons ready. We were golden.
Side note: when I was in my 20’s (before marriage and kids, and before grocery delivery and pick up) I despised shopping during the day because the parking lot would be full of minivans and mothers with uncontrollable kids every where. Little did I know that I’d one day be one of those mothers. I wish I understood then that getting there may have been all they could do that day. It may have taken every fiber of their being to just make it to the store. I should have extended grace to them, or considered it my ministry to give an extra hand to overwhelmed mothers at the grocery store.
Back to the story I thought I’d never be writing…
Everything was going so great! (famous last words). I had the baby in the cart which is always a delight because he’s just the king of our family and knows it through and through. The girls listened really well, stayed close by and only threw in a couple extra things into the cart that we didn’t have on our list when I wasn’t looking, and it was produce so who could argue?
I had a completely full cart when Faith’s foot started to hurt. Lovely. So in the cart she goes, on top of all of the groceries.
I have to insert here that when we go to the grocery store, I don’t know if its the fact that I have twins, an adorable smiley baby waving to everyone or the sheer pity that I’m shopping with 3 young children, we attract a lot of stares and comments. It’s probably a combination of all of those things, but I just accept it and move on with purpose, racing to get through the check out line before someone loses it.
The rest of the trip went well, June went into super helper mode since Faith was immobile and Charles was still happy as could be. After we checked out, the girls asked to see the rooster. At Wegmans, there is a rooster that comes out of a barn every hour, on the hour, and the girls look forward to it every time. Whenever I tell anyone without kids about the rooster they look at me like I’m crazy, or they’re wondering how they could have possibly missed a barn and a rooster. It’s not a real rooster, just something I’m sure they added to the store to simultaneously help and hurt parents, especially those with children who can’t tell time.

I looked at the clock and we had 3 minutes, sweet, perfect timing. So I parked us in front of the barn to wait for the rooster, which is conveniently in front of the coffee shop. I felt as though I needed a reward for this excursion, or at least a pick me up to make up for all of the energy that this trip just drained out of me. So I grabbed a cup while we waited.
What was I thinking? How was I going to carry a cup of coffee, push and unload a heavy cart full of groceries under 4 year old Faith, effectively steer 4 year old June walking (you know if you have anyone under the age of 5 that “steer” is an appropriate and very useful verb here), and handle a baby who is obsessed with grabbing every cup in sight? This is not going where you think its going. You think I’m going to spill the coffee don’t you?
You’d think wrong.
We’re chugging (pun intended) along through the busy entrance, I’m successfully avoiding all the baby swats for my hot coffee cup when JUNE decides she can’t walk. What.
Her foot hurts from when she dropped a cup on it 15 years ago and you know, the pain comes back whenever it’s convenient for her, and I must give her sympathy because we’ve had a long drawn out foot saga for her sister and we can’t leave June out.
So what do I do? I beg and plead with her more than I’ve ever begged in my life, short of getting on my knees in the entrance of Wegmans, because that would have certainly looked weird, right? So I do something that DOESN’T look weird, I offer her a piggy back. I’m rolling my eyes right now at the sight of this- this had hot mess momma written all over it. How did I think we’d make it to the car in this state, all while CARRYING A CUP OF COFFEE???!!! Who did I think I was? A celebrity? Carrying a cup of coffee like its an accessory? Like I have an extra hand? I wish I had a picture of this to show you, I’m sure someone does because it was that much of a spectacle.
Thankfully someone had pity on me and offered to push the cart of 2 children plus groceries, while I carried my 4 year old and cup of coffee- not spilling a drop.
I haven’t taken them to the grocery store since….