It's a Mad, Mad World

All of the sudden, it's summer in Minnesota. I think we had about 4 days of spring. Summers in Minnesota are hot. I don't deal well with hot. So, in an effort to save myself and my family from "the beast that is Maegan" when I become hot, I attempted to go shopping this morning, with the little ones in tow. I think you can guess where this is headed...

After getting the girls dressed, making sure diapers were dry, tummies were full and sunglasses were in the general vicinity of each toddler's face, we headed to the store. I had no intention of being there for long and I promised a stop to the playground after the shopping trip. I should have been golden, right?

I was so very, very wrong.

We were in the store for no longer than 20 minutes. I grabbed three sizes of two different styles of shorts. It literally took me seconds to try on each pair. And the children simply would not cooperate. They were crawling all over everything, refused to sit in the carts, chucked their shoes around and were general tiny little tornadoes. I asked nicely, I reminded about the playground, I threatened, I cajoled and finally, I left my cart where it stood, stuffed the little one's shoes in my bag, picked her up, took the other one (now crying and pleading) by the hand and got back in the car. At this point, I was both hot and pissed. Not a good combination.

On the way home, the little one was perfectly content. The older one and I cried most of the way home.

I've shopped with my kids before and it's never easy, but this was the first time it was what I considered ugly. This was the first time I was that woman...you know, the one with the screaming kids that have to be hauled out of the store...the one you look at with pity in your eyes but secret glee in your heart because you aren't her. Yep, I was that woman.

By the time we got home, all tears had ceased (although mine were still on the brink). The girls walked into the house and immediately started playing. I was still sorely irritated but also glaringly aware of the futility of these emotions. The girls are just kids...they aren't little adults. They don't understand what it means to be a raging lunatic of a mother with two kids who won't cooperate in a store any more than they understand how to do calculus. Hopefully they'll get there at some point and in the meantime, hopefully I'll get to the store so I can buy some damn shorts...