As the title states, today, a miracle happened. I went to the grocery store with my daughter and she didn’t have a meltdown. You read that correctly, there was no meltdown. The heavens parted, the birds sang, and I didn’t need a Tylenol when I got home. I did my preemptive speech that I give before each outing.
“Now Princess, what are the rules before we go out?”
“No biting, no hitting, no pinching, no slapping, no yelling, no crying and listen to Mommy,” my three year old lists off.
“That’s right,” I say, nodding my head. “Are you already?”
We are getting ready to go. I have inhaled and exhaled deeply 5 times. I have centred my chi, I have repeated the mantra “It’s only a trip to the grocery store” in my head over and over again. My daughter is in her weather appropriate attire, our cloth grocery bags at the ready. It’s time. We pull out the grocery cart, the doors part and my hubby gives me the reassuring pat on the back. We make our rounds at the fruit stands, then the vegetables and then the bread section. So far so good. She is holding the lettuce and potatoes in the cart. She is content. It isn’t until we round the meat aisle when she becomes a little restless. Ok, quick thinking, what to do, what to do?
“Honey, do you want to help Daddy push the cart?”
“Yes. I help ok Daddy.” Meltdown averted.
We get through the meat, and onto the eggs and milk we go. She decides she wants plain Organic Greek yogurt and puts it in the cart. I put it back on the shelf and her expression on her face says it all. Oh no.
“We’ll get you big girl yogurt ok.”
The expression fades, and this is what she squeaks; “Ok Mom.”
Now its the quick up and down of the other aisles, decadent in their sugars and treats, the brightly coloured boxes, the mascots and symbols of every parents contempt. I am envisioning the temper tantrum, the cries and pleas for Lucky Charms, the stares from the other patrons. But to my surprise, she is content in helping put things in the cart and pushing it. She does take a small time out however to stand upon a stool and sing “I’m a Little Teapot.” I smile and so do the other people walking by. I am relishing in the fact that so far everything has gone relatively smoothly. But we haven’t checked out yet, I don’t want to jinx myself. And then I see it. The #1 cash with its iridescent glow, we are almost done!
My little helper begins to carelessly toss food onto the conveyor belt, squishing the bread, bruising the bananas, and tearing the bags. I stop her and she begins to pout.
“You have to be careful or it will break.”
She turns to her Dad and restates this to him. We have finally packed up the bags, the bill is settled and I am gleeful. I have managed an entire trip with no big fuss. But my Princess is not done yet.
“I have to go pee pee Mommy.”
OH NO!!! The battle of potty training and being away from home has just begun. I begin to sweat. I am now rushing. We don’t have time. Oh crap!
“Just hold it ok, we’re almost home,” I plead, the entire time that an accident could be imminent.
For some reason, we made it home and had no accident. We had no temper tantrum. No fit of tears and cries. No “You’re not my friend Mommy.” It was a good trip to the grocery store. It was a miracle. I am still pinching myself to make sure this is not a dream.