Meijer Incident, 2016

I suppose the first mistake was the chips. I was trying to think of a good bribe, and so I promised The Littles (Ben and Becca) that, if we could get through Meijer without fighting, they could each have one of the small bags of "Lays classic chips" (as Ben says) that I would buy in a package for Ben's lunches. Maybe you're one of those fantastic parents who is able to get through your life without bribery. If you are, please know that I hate you. I, on the other hand, rely on bribery in times of need, and this was definitely one of those times.

Eric and I had a great thing going. We'd decided in January that Ben needed something to DO on Saturdays, so we signed the Littles up for swim lessons in Gaylord. I would go to swim lessons with the kids, and Eric would go to Meijer to get the groceries. We'd create the list Friday night, laying out what we'd have for dinner each night, planning lunches, trying to get as many of the essentials as possible on the trip. It was particularly great, because Eric is a quick shopper. In contrast, I take fooooorrrreeeeever, because I have to compare the prices of the three different options of cumin: This one is .75oz for $2.59, but this one is .95oz for $3.15. Hhmmm. Yup, I'm that ridiculous. I get out my iPhone, calculate the cents per oz. Literally, the CENTS PER OUNCE. And that's just one stupid item. Thankfully, Eric looks at the list, reads "cumin," grabs a container of Meijer Naturals cumin, and moves along. So, not only do we get to kill two birds with one stone--wear out Ben, get the groceries--but it's done in a timely manner.

Unfortunately, two weeks ago, Eric had a meeting. And our cousins were coming to visit. And I was going to a Tiger game with "the girls" on Sunday. So, we neeeeeded groceries, and Eric couldn't do it. We really should have just bitten the bullet and had one of us go to our local grocery store. But, Ben has his food issues, I have my food issues, we're just not easy to shop for. So, after swim lessons, I headed to Meijer. With Ben. And Becca. Did I mention it was after swim lessons? And that Ben was with me? And Becca? Not my best choice.

So, I took an already swum-out, exhausted (because not only do Ben, Becca and I have food issues, but we all also have sleep issues--we're working on it) and starving (yup, lunchtime) Ben and Becca to Meijer with the promise that, if there was not any fighting, we would have chips.

We walked into the store with the best of intentions. I asked if they wanted to walk or ride. Ben wanted to walk, Becca wanted to ride. We saw one of those gigantic, semi-truck carts with the seat for big kids. So, Ben decided he'd sit next to Bec, and we were on our way. Within--literally--seconds, it began.

Ben laid his arm along the back of the seat. He was not even touching Becca, just relaxing his arm.

Becca: He has his aahhm on me! I don't want his aahhm on me!

Me: He's not touching you. His arm is on the back of the seat. Let it go, girl.

Becca: I don't wannnn his aahhm dere! Take it off, Ben! (began to shriek) Take it off! Take it off!

Me: (maintained calm) Bec, his arm is not touching you. At this point, YOU are causing a problem. You are yelling. You need to stop yelling. Take some breaths.

Becca: (ignored me and continued with the tirade) Take it off! You (scratched Ben's arm) get (scratch) your (scratch) arm (grab) OFF!

Well, I couldn't let the scratching and grabbing go. To his credit, Ben sat there with a shit-eating grin on his face, arm casually slung along the back of the seat, and watched Becca melt. I tried using the quiet, close-to-your-face, whisper-between-my-gritted-teeth voice to convince Becca to take some breaths (In your nose, out your mouth. Watch, like this!), but she was too far gone. So, I unbuckled her, stuck her in the middle of the grocery part of the cart, and continued on my merry way.

For the rest of the grocery trip, I am sad to report, Becca screamed. At the top of her freaking lungs. In a shrill tone. Without pausing for a breath. I want chips. I want chips. I want chips. Stupid chips.

As we shopped, I got several encouraging nods, thumbs-up signs,  a few "Good job, Momma"s, and even one hug from other moms, who had clearly "been there". I have done the same to other mothers as they have tried to make it through grocery stores, hoping to be unseen. I'm glad, now, that I have given these bits of encouragement because, I promise you, I certainly appreciated them that day. But, as we finally left the store, just before we reached the door, one man undermined every positive comment I got that day. As our cart passed this man's check-out lane, he stepped into our path, pointed his finger into my screaming daughter's face. and condescended, "Young lady, every single person in this store is happy that you are finally leaving. I hope you know that."

I'm not sure I have ever been more surprised or angry in my life. I did not know what to say. If the man had said something to me, the ADULT who was really responsible for dragging this child through the store, it would have been one thing. But to reprimand my daughter--a CHILD--that was something different all together. I continued my cart out of the store, loaded my groceries, strapped in my kids, and, finally, thought of what I should have said.

I should have stopped the cart, turned to the man, and said, "Yes, I bet you are happy. I know she's made a lot of noise, and probably made your shopping trip unpleasant. But she is FIVE, and clearly tired and hungry. You, on the other hand, are a GROWN ASS MAN, and you should know better."

Actually, I should have known better. My kids were exhausted, and so was I. I never should have taken them to the grocery store that day. It was lunch time, and they were probably 'starving'. I probably should have at least tried to feed them first, not promise them food afterward. When we got home, and she had calmed down, I said to Becca, "You know, honey, you needed to take some breaths. Remember how we practiced?" and she said, "But, Momma, I couldn't." I believe her. If I had been thinking about my daughter, not my groceries, I would have realized that she was tired, hungry, five, and overstressed. I'm not saying I should have given her the chips. But, I do believe I should have pulled the cart over in the back, by the goldfish, taken her out, and cuddled her until she could calm down. I still shouldn't have let her have the chips, but I should have dealt with her tantrum, because she was beyond being able to deal with it herself.

Sixteen years into this parenting thing, decades of child development and education classes, I am still figuring it out as I go. Next time, I hope to do it better. That's all I can plan. Next time. I can definitely tell you this: I won't be promising anybody any chips any time soon.