Lately, taking Peanut to a public shopping venue has been more than this mama can handle. The grocery store typically involves hands swiping items off the shelves and into the cart when I’m trying to find the right product or bargain. With the behemoth race car carts built for two kids (please oh please someone at Publix read this and give me a better, more maneuverable cart) taking up most of an aisle as it is, I can’t really avoid having the shelves out of his reach. Oh, and did I mention that said shopping cart built for two leaves my boys in entirely too close proximity for the surreptitious bop and bonk? Target, where the carts built for two aren’t quite amenable to my 14 month old, typically involves me chasing after Peanut, fussing for him to stay near the cart. I mean it, stay where YOU CAN SEE MOMMY!
During the holiday rush and with school out, these trips have been painfully unavoidable.
This past weekend, the hubby and I braved a trip to IKEA with the boys. Part of my new year’s reorganization requires new storage in the kitchen and a possible new book shelf. The only thing to make this trip bearable was IKEA’s fabulous child play area – toys, ball pits, walls far away from breakable items, responsible staff. As a result, we were able to browse at a leisurely pace, finish sentences while discussing options and enjoy our shopping experience.
After picking Peanut up from 45 minutes of play time, we hit up the IKEA cafeteria (hello – lunch for four for $13.00!). A mom and her grown daughter were eating across the way from us and the mother approached us as they were leaving.
She leaned in close and said that we had the most well behaved children she and her daughter had ever seen. PAUSE. Wait. What? Really, she went on, they were absolutely delightful to watch during lunch and I must be a great mom.
Some days, I suppose, the stars align and your children behave at just the right moment and just the right person happens to notice and says just the right thing to remind you that maybe you aren’t so bad at this mothering thing after all.
Thank you, mysterious IKEA lady. You have no idea how much your random comments of kindness mean to me.
Now, please, just don’t go to Publix.