I took my 3 amazing children to Target the other night. It was almost bedtime, but we needed diapers and formula so it was a trip that had to happen. If you are under the impression that people were stopping me in my tracks to compliment my put-together, well-behaved children, you will be sorely disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t even put this trip into our top 5 worst-ever, but that doesn’t mean it was pretty.
My 6 year old is an ASKER, he asks for everything. Things he wants. Things he needs. Things that he doesn’t know the name of. Presents he wants to buy for random classmates. Clothes that are too small. Things we already own. Anything that’s a cool shape or color. Anything. Once he stops crying about my refusal to buy one thing, we’ve walked far enough for him to want something else.
My 2 year old is a completely different story. He’s an OPENER. The opener is dangerous because they open things before you even realize they’re no longer strapped into the cart. I buy more opened/partially eaten food items than sealed ones. I used to get anxiety over the amount of “trash” I needed to pay for at the beginning of each check-out session, but now I have bigger things to worry about, like if Easton has escaped to the parking lot while I was blinking.
Have you forgotten Ella (6 mos) was on this trip? Yes, me too. She’s literally the one with the most needs and she stayed completely silent throughout all of the chaos. She also does an amazing job of holding all of the crap that doesn’t fit anywhere else in the cart.
So we’re at Target checking out and I’m feeling optimistic, but as soon as I start piling wrappers on the conveyer belt to buy, Easton starts trying to open all of the candy next to the register. “Stop it!” I hiss with a smile on my face. He laughs and starts running, weaving in and out of aisles. Meanwhile, I’m trying to get the heck out of Dodge, so I send Brayden off to round up Easton. Big mistake. Now he’s being chased while running into strangers and opening food I don’t want to pay for. This has become a game. An awesome, annoying game.
(I would like to take this opportunity to propose a petition. My petition is to get Target to start playing background music in their stores. I’ve been personally been dealing with child meltdowns for over 6 years now and just sometimes I wish their shrieks would be slightly muffled by some random elevator music.)
Anyways, here we are. My children are chasing each other while stealing and I’m sweating because I can’t find my credit card, because I stuck it somewhere special that I “wouldn’t forget it” and then couldn’t find it (it was in my pocket). I finished my purchase and put the children back in the giant cart they always make me push (with the 2 extra seats, but no extra space for purchases). I’m on my hundredth “you aren’t going to get your Lunchable!” when the lady behind me (who had been quietly laughing to herself the whole time) speaks up, “you’re a great mom” she tells me. She has 3 kids at home and understands the struggle. The struggle is REAL.
There are only 3 reasons that parents would say parenting isn’t “that” hard:
1. They’re lying.
2. They have a child who is 1 day old.
3. They have a multitude of nannies.
Parenting is hard, I don’t care who you are. That lady probably wasn’t super impressed with me or my kids that night, but she understood it. She understood the importance of lifting others up when they are struggling. She saw through the exhaustion and frustration and wildness. She understood us. I wake up every day and put everything I have into parenting. I push through until the kids go to bed, then I sit on the couch too exhausted to change the channel away from cartoons. We are parents, we are all part of a club that is equally fulfilling and draining. Sometimes it’s nice to hear a stranger laugh at your kids while they’re being naughty, then tell you you’re awesome because they “get it.”
I lose my temper. I cry. I feel weak. I disappoint myself. Despite all of those shortcomings, my kids love me. They tell me I’m the most amazing mommy. They cuddle and hug me even if I snapped at them. They forgive me of my mistakes. So here we are, it’s another day and I’m sure my kids will spill about 20 gallons of water on my new laminate floor and I’ll raise my voice just a little while telling them for the 100th time to get dressed, but at the end of the day everything will be okay because we are a family and always will be.