Diary of a BlueSuitMom: A Trip to the Store

by Maria Bailey

I know it's not very practical -- and might actually border on insanity -- to take four children under 7 years of age to the grocery store on a Sunday afternoon. Unfortunately, as a working mother, I don't have the luxury of always being practical and logical and only on good days would anyone view how and when I do things as sane. Perhaps that explains the reactions I receive when I go to the grocery store for the ever-expanding list of items.

A trip to the grocery store is really never that fun. On rare occasions, I find it relaxing. It can be an excuse to escape rainy day activities and a nice break from being locked up in the house with four preschoolers. It's amazing how your perception of relaxation changes day to day. Inevitably, even the most relaxing stroll up and down the grocery aisles end with the cashier announcing your $200 total to all the women in the surrounding lanes who have been watching you unload your two baskets of formula, super-size chips, bulk packages of paper towels and four dozen frozen waffle boxes. These are the same women who will ask me with a friendly grin on their face, "Just how many people are you feeding with that much food?" or "You're shopping for two weeks, right?" No, let it be known that either my husband or I visit the grocery store almost daily to replenish what we call the essentials: milk, bread, apples and diapers.

Today, no one wants to be at the grocery store. Certainly not me. Not my children. Or other shoppers who see us empty out our Suburban. It takes ten minutes of pep talks, bribes and lectures just to prepare my kids. My rules include: no fighting over who sits in the cart, no yelling for your favorite cereal and no swinging on the poles separating the aisles. It's simple - just behave, although sometimes I forget to define the word behave.

On this day, my children seem to understand my definition of good behavior, although I know it will last no more than 50 minutes. If only the woman in the deli would understand the same limitations of a child's attention, as she slowly slices the ham and spreads paper between each slice. Doesn't she know that I'm lucky to keep the ham in the package once it's opened at home, not to mention 12 little pieces of paper between each slice? So here I stand at the deli, waiting on Bologna and Olive Loaf and feeding my children every sample of food I can find sitting on the counter.

Is it any wonder that our children grow up to be adults who use food to soothe themselves when they are stressed? It's all because of mothers like me who feed our children through the grocery store just to keep them quiet. First, there's the water fountain near the door. Then, there's the meat slices the deli ladies so generously offers. Finally, there's the free cookie in the bakery department.

So here we are, all five of us making our way through the produce department. I see two women glancing from the corner of their eyes; trying hard to refrain from gasping at the Herculean task I am undertaking. It's a ritual in our family that my kids help me collect the vegetables and fruits. Each child takes a plastic bag and as if we are playing a game of math, they seek out the items on my list. Each person gets an assignment. Of course, I always tell them the wrong number to retrieve so that they can either add or subtract the correct amount to reach our desired quantity. It's just that working mother thing. I have to fit quality time into every minute. Since I know I don't have time for flash cards, I've resorted to "Vegetable Math." I humbly smile at the two women still gazing in our direction. I'm really trying to look calm and cool now, just to show them I can do it.

As we proceed down the bread aisle, an older woman pleasantly nods and says, "You are daring, aren't' you?" Yes, I admit. Another couple in front of a chip display try to guess the ages of my children, commenting on how close they seem to be. Yes, they sure are. Seems that grocery shopping with four children provokes Earth shattering intelligence from perfect strangers. I haven't answered so many questions since my final exams in college.

Forty minutes and counting. We are almost done. My four items have turned into 70. I must admit, my kids are behaving wonderfully. So far, so good. Just one more aisle and we are done. Onto the bread aisle. Little do I know that the there lies my greatest challenge. Not because of my kids' lack of patience or a spontaneous outbreak of fighting between siblings, no it comes from a single adult comment.

One of the women who has fixated on us in the produce department approaches me as we discuss strawberry jam versus grape jelly. Her comment? "Are all these your kids? Some of them had to be a mistake?" A mistake? That's an interesting comment. If she only knew that each one was extremely planned. You don't go through years of infertility and adoptions without planning. Her comment doesn't warrant a reply or explanation. Which of my children would I call a mistake and would any reasonable parent agree in front of her children that any of her children were mistakes even if they were unplanned? My silence does not deter her continued remarks. "Poor you, I can't imagine taking care of all those children." It was at that point my maternal instincts kick in.

"Yes, they're all mine. Every one of them. And I think I'm the luckiest person on Earth," I said as I walked away. I'm sure she was quite correct when she said, "She could never imagine taking care of four children." I'm also sure she could never imagine was how great it is to come home from work and have 8 arms instead of 2 hug you and how gratifying it is to hear your children have loving conversations among themselves.

I got the necessary groceries. But what I also got was a good reminder of just how awesome it is to be a mom. It was a lesson well worth the effort required to take my four children grocery shopping.

Email me your comments at maria@bluesuitmom.com. Or you can share your working mom stories with other moms on our message boards.