Remember the days when you could go to ASDA or any shop for that matter, and you were able to go in, peruse the goods on sale at leisure, and take time to compare prices, brands, and eye up the produce boy?
Yeah... well, I barely remember those days. For now I have 3 distractions that make the above impossible. Well, all apart from the produce boy bit... I am a girl, after all.
It all starts before we've even got in to the shop. This 'super'store is doing away with shopping trolleys that have two seats. Apparently most families now only require one seat. So already, I'm jipped cos I don't conform enough to have my babies taken care of. Though a trip round the shops makes me realise why most people only have one or two kids.
And then once we're inside, there seems to be some kind of message sent out to all children (kind of like a high pitched frequency that only children's ears can hear) that makes them act wild, need the loo every five minutes, be demanding of sweets, whine and moan incessantly and act like little houdini's.
And why above all this, is my absolute NEED to save face the most frustrating thing of all? Why do I feel like I have to show everybody that I can handle these three little monsters? Why do I feel like I have to paint a picture of me being the most fabulous parent in the world, who has three well trained chimps/kids who obey my every command and who do nothing but smile sweetly at passers by and who don't drool and snot over all the goods before they're scanned? In my psychotic head, everyone is judging me and the number of lollipops I carry in my Trolley Dolly and the whispered threats of smacked bots and the over use of the evil eye of judgement.
For example, as we were waiting in line at the checkout (we were waiting for the wee wummin to stop talking to her friend) Hannah and Eilidh had had enough. Both of them were crying. But, I chose to ignore them. Everything else had been tried. Lollies, promises of a nice dinner when we got home, threats of a horrible dinner when we got home (more likely) almost pleading with them to stop their nonsense.... And it's the woman behind me that ends up almost pushing me over the edge. She takes out her manky dirty keys and starts jangling them in front of Hannah's face. Of course, it incenses her and the crying gets louder... as do the bunch of keys. I appreciate that she was trying to help. But I was ready to take those manky dirty keys and lob them straight up the pet aisle (cos it stinks to high heaven of cheap dog food). Does she not think that I have tried everything to make these kids quiet? No - here she comes with her miracle keys. One jangle and calm is restored. And why would a 2 year old be interested in keys anyway!? No - she has judged me and thought to herself - "hold up, this bird can't look after her kids properly. Doesn't she know they need something to play with? Something fun like a set of manky dirty keys?" And it's these unspoken judgements that I can't bear.
Well. There is no point to this post. I'm not concluding with a brainwave of how better to deal with this situation in the future. Just do the shopping at night I suppose... when the produce boy finishes his shift ;)