AKA My Latest Trip To Costco
In honor of Mother’s Day coming up, I thought I’d share with you my latest adventure as a Hot Mess Mom.
Yesterday started out so well. I woke up in a great mood, ready to take on the world. I figured, since it was such a good day, I should go to Costco. It’s been on my list of things to do. So while everyone is eating breakfast, I text my mom and start planning my day. We decide to go to Costco together, because the more the merrier, and we decide on meeting there at 1pm, after my mom’s pilates lesson and after my son has had a nap and lunch.
I ask my son (who is one and a half) if that would be fun and he gets super excited. He went with me on my last Costco run and fell in love with the place. He loves to eat so he was all about the free samples. My daughter, who is in second grade, starts to pout. “I wish I was going to Costco”. No problem, I’m thinking, confident in my parenting and planning skills. So I text my mom, she’s ok with pushing it back until my daughter is out of school. My day is set, my kids are happy, go me.
The day continues to be smooth sailing. My husband and I both get some work done, and some cleaning. My son is his usual chipper self. I manage to stick to my new exercise routine which I’ve been doing now for a whopping three days straight! I’m feeling so good, I even decide to wear a dress just for the hell of it. No special occasion, just wearing a dress to take my kids shopping. Like one of those moms who is put together and stuff.
Three o clock rolls around. I get my son into the minivan and we go to pick up my daughter. We get there a little early, so I let my little guy roam around in the grass near where my daughter is let out. He’s having fun, dressed in the matching outfit my mom bought for him. He has fun, for a minute. But then the bell rings and he no longer wants to be in the grass. He wants to be climbing the stairs where a hundred kids are running past, eager to leave school for the day. I calmly tell him we can’t do that, it’s not safe, and I pick him up and sit on a bench to wait for my other kiddo.
He does not want to do this. He makes this known by not only screaming, blood curdling screams, but by arching his back as far as he can. I’m doing my best to hold him and calm him down, but the cute matching outfit my mom got him is made out of a slippery material and it is not easy. He’s flailing, kicking, screaming, and I am no longer feeling like a put together mom. People are looking, he’s still screaming, and my daughter is running late.
She saunters over after what felt like twenty minutes and the first thing she says; “I don’t wanna go to Costco anymore. I’m too tired.”
At this point I am so far from a put together mom. I can feel my jaw clench and my ears get red. I stand up, carrying my son like an unruly sack of potatoes, and through gritted teeth tell my daughter to keep up with me. I stomp back to the van with my two bewildered children in tow.
My daughter asks why I took the van. I told her it was because we were going to Costco, but honestly, my voice was probably so shrill at this point that only dogs could hear it. I get everyone in the car and buckled, and drive, in silence, to Costco.
Once we got there everything was fine. The very first free sample was cake, so the kids were instantly appeased, and as soon as I entered the store I was greeted by a large display of already mixed margaritas on sale. It’s as if Costco knew.