A Healer’s Geste

Jinxed

I should have held off that post containing my boast of Hans bagging my groceries for me until after we got back from WinCo.

Keeping it real:

Our house had practically zero foodstuffs, except for 2 Costco cans of crushed tomatoes, so we head out this morning at 9:15 for WinCo. I have psyched myself up — and caffeinated myself up — to make this a good experience. Ilse was tanked up, I remembered the grocery-store pep-talk for the boys (“don’t touch anything we’re not going to buy; I will tell you what you can put in the cart for me; do not open the bulk bins and touch the food; do not touch produce that I have not directed you to touch; obey me right away, all the way, with a good attitude; stay right by the cart unless you have permission to do otherwise; I would love your help pushing the cart, but you have to obey my directions….”). I had an organized list, so I could keep 75% awareness of the boys and I kept a running conversation as we went along (“ok, now push this way, ok, now it’s Jaeger’s turn to push, ok, now please put this in the cart, no, do not touch those, no, we’re not going to buy those, yes, please put this in the cart for me, no fussing, please…..”). And for the most part things went smoothly. We were 70% done, approaching the milk/frozen section when Jaeger wails, “Oh, Mom, I am poopy and my bottom hurts.” Alright, we can still keep this up. “We’re almost done, ok, Jaeger. We’ll just grab some milk and buy our stuff and get home to change your diaper, ok?” And no meltdown occurred. We’re good, I concluded.

We hurried, Ilse slept, we got everything onto the belt without too much trouble with the end-displays — but only because Jaeger was distracted by bonking his head on the cart which caused him to bite his tongue, so he was low-level fussing, but not wailing too loudly. Hans has been claiming for the last two minutes that he has to use the bathroom very badly (the only way in which he needs to anymore, because he knows no other way will be honored). We get in line near the bathrooms and I tell him he can go himself and I will be right there. He says he will after he helps put things on the belt. I tell him that if he has to go badly, then he must go now, but if he can wait then he can wait for home. He says he can wait for home. He helps put a few things on the conveyor, then awaits the groceries at the other end with the green bags.

I bring the cart and Jaeger around to the end, get my own bag, and begin grabbing fragile items off of the belt before they reach Hans. As I grab the last wine bottle, I hear at thud and Hans, “Uh-oh, sorry, Mom, sorry, Mom, sorry, Mom, it was an accident.” A yogurt container had hit the floor, popped open and a bit had come out. It’s ok, I think it happened because Jaeger had bumped him; the container isn’t broken, so I seal it up and put it in the bag and the checkout lady wipes up the little spill with a paper towel. We go back to our respective positions and jobs, but as I’m hauling the full cold-bag into the cart I notice Hans is not picking up the bulk-bag of popcorn (which is rather full) in the best way and before I can come to the rescue, it has a hole on the side and is spilling kernels all over the belt and floor (because it’s halfway between the two in the air as Hans is holding it). I do get there in time to rescue 90% of the contents. “That’s alright, Hans, but I think I’ll finish the bagging.” “Yeah, I think today is not a good day for me,” he replies mournfully. Ok, he has amused me and I have recovered from teetering on the edge of a Mommy meltdown.

But I forget, when I had given the checkout clerk my ID for the wine, I had noticed that my debit card was not in its slot. No cash, no debit card, but the checkbook might be in the car. The checkout lady says she will ring everything up, then they will put my cart of bagged groceries in the cooler for me while I obtain some form of payment. We proceed, she suspends the transaction and puts a label on my cart, and I head out hauling a carseat, my purse, and two boys tagging along, holding the carseat. Jaeger is still poopy and Hans has to use the bathroom. Ilse is sleeping, but I hold my breath, waiting her to let loose at any moment, just because it seems like perfect timing for such a thing.

We go outside, walking much too slowly down the parking lot with Hans “helping” hold the carseat and Jaeger holding my hand as the 103-degree heat reflects off the pavement. Ilse, at least, is covered in a blanket-tent over her carrier, but the rest of us bake and Jaeger waddles and whines. No checkbook in the car. Everyone in, buckled, air conditioner on max. Whoooew, we’ll still make this. It’s 11:11 when we pull in at home. Ok, so I cannot leave the car running in the driveway while I’m inside changing a diaper, and I cannot leave the baby and Hans in the car without the AC while I change the diaper, and I really — really, really, really — cannot make myself be the good mom and get everyone out, get everyone taken care of, only to get back in to get back out and back in again. So, my poor children wait in the running car as I dash into the house (I did at least have my house keys handy) and get my card (I knew exactly where it was, at least) and dash back.

Back we head to WinCo, park, everyone out…..long, hot trail into the store down the entire length of the parking lot….but Jaeger is not complaining and Hans hasn’t mentioned needing to use the bathroom since the checkout line. We’re alright, I think to myself, I try to tell myself. To the customer service, wait in line, tell the girl our situation, she pages someone to bring us our cart. Right across from us Chris from church is bagging her two green bags of groceries. I actually don’t feel like hiding myself — and it would be pointless to try with my retinue, though they are surprisingly and blessedly quiet at this point, the boys playing with Ilse’s toes — so I smile and initiate the encounter. This sort of situation is all too common for me to feel embarrassed to admit my plight and Chris graciously wished that we had been checking out at the same time so she could have paid for the groceries for me. My cart showed up, then, and I at least had the satisfaction of my bags appearing nice and neat, and Chris commented, “Ah, Yoke’s bags! Very good, mine are WinCo.” “Do you get a better discount for those?” I am able to respond (and that passes for wit with me). “Oh, well, I don’t know; well, see you later!” I think she didn’t get that I was trying to make a joke.

Sigh. 103-degrees and black asphalt again. Jaeger daudles and whines, but it’s really my fault, so I just try to encourage him to get to the car quickly. Ilse doesn’t like being covered up. We get to our car, I get Ilse in first and start the car as the boys climb in. “Mom!” Jaeger panics, “Do not leave! I am not buckled! I am not buckled!” Sigh. Groceries in, cart away, Jaeger buckled in, and we’re on our way home.

At noon sharp we pull in a home. And there are groceries to get inside, a poopy diaper to change, and a girl to feed.

The irony of it all? On the way in to the store, after the boys had been pep-talked and I was determined to keep a good attitude, I was telling myself how good it is to take the boys even on the big grocery trips, for it is because they are used to accompanying me that they know how to help and how they will be trained into excellent grocery helpers in the near future. It will not belong before Hans can write the bulk tag numbers, before Jaeger will graduate to bagging help, before Hans can push a cart of siblings while I push the groceries. Then before you know it I’ll be sending Hans and Jaeger off with a cart and half my list and they’ll do half my shopping for me. You just have to have vision and perseverance and work hard now for a pay off later. I was psyching myself up for the 90-minute grocery run and it worked. However, I set myself up for the fall because I added, “When I get home, I will write a blog post about why I think it’s better to bring the kids along rather than waiting for the evening or Saturday morning to go solo.

Pride cometh before the fall, and the fall cameth. And I think I’ll go solo next time around, vision or no.