Once or twice a week I sneak off to the store after my husband gets home from work. In secret, I slip away to my bedroom to get dressed, tip-toe around the foyer to find my shoes, and quietly grasp my car keys before opening the door.
Of course, it doesn’t always work that way. Most of the time my tween calls from the living room, and asks “Hey mom! Where are you going?” just loud enough so all six kids in the house can hear that mommy is at the door trying to escape — leave — I mean, leave.
I don’t do it because I don’t enjoy their company. I know they love to get out of the house as much as I do. I know they want to go shopping too. I tell them I’m in a hurry and can get done faster if they stay, but the real reason I go to the store without my kids isn’t because it’s faster.
And sometimes that can’t happen if they are at the store with me. Sometimes, going to the store with my kids can be a nightmare. Case in point. The first time Sick just got real.™ for me as a mom:
When my oldest daughter was almost a year old she became sick in the middle of the grocery store. Explosive poo went everywhere — everywhere! I had to buy groceries that I ended up throwing away in their restroom. The grocery cart had to be taken outside by a gagging manager. (I’m pretty sure he left it next to the dumpster.) My daughter left a trail from the food aisle to the bathroom AND when I tried to change her in their restroom — she wasn’t done! The walls! I had to hold a baby while cleaning the walls in a public restroom with hand soap and paper towels!
Trips like that never leave you. The memory, horror, and embarrassment that comes with it, never goes away! So, I lie. (Kinda.) I tell the kids that I’m in a hurry and can get home sooner if they hang out with Daddy on days when I know I wouldn’t be able to handle something like that. Because trips like that happen at the worst moment. Because no mother is ever prepared for her child to get sick in the store. Because there are days when if that happened, I would just walk out of the store and call the manager (crying) from the parking lot. So, for my sanity, and to save the store from forever hating me — I tell the kids I can get home faster if they stay behind. Not every time. Just on the days when my confidence is slipping so much that leaving the house to go the store is the only way I can regain composure.
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