It has occurred to me a few times lately upon
seeing large families out doing their shopping, what I must have looked like
when I took five, six or seven kids with me to a store. There were curious stares and often comments like,
“Are they all yours?” and “You certainly have your hands full.” Coming from a fairly large family myself (I
am one of six children), and having planned to have at least five or six
children, our “crowd” just did not look that large to me. They were spaced about two to three years
apart and each baby was welcomed whole-heartedly. I really loved being
surrounded by my kids. So sometimes when I see a young mother pushing a cart
with a baby seat and a toddler in the cart and two or three (or more) children trailing
along behind, I get a little nostalgic. Sometimes a mom likes to remember...
These days when I go to buy groceries, I do
not have a shopping cart full of diapers, baby food, animal crackers, or jars
of peanut butter or jelly. I don’t have
to make dozens of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches each week anymore. We used
to go through a jar of grape jam every week.
And that reminds me: One of my favorite stories to tell is about a time
when my second child was four or five years old. It was a Thursday. I know that because I always did my grocery
shopping on Thursday mornings back then. We were at the grocery store and she
loved to “help.” The truth is I probably needed her help because I was most
likely VERY pregnant, making it hard to bend over, or pushing a cart with one
hand and holding a baby with the other.
My babies never made it all the way through a shopping trip without
wailing to be held and who can think straight with a hysterical baby right in
front of their face? Not me. So, I
became very good at pushing a cart with one hand. Back to that Thursday morning, so long ago… grape
jam still came in glass jars and it was on the bottom shelf. My little helper
followed my directions and picked up a jar of jam but dropped it on that very
hard floor. The result was a purple, sticky mess with lots of glass pieces
scattered around it. I found a clerk who made the customary announcement,
“Cleanup on aisle five.” Soon, a young man with a broom and a mop came to the rescue. I apologized profusely and he was very
forgiving. Fast forward to one week
later. My little darling again picked up
a jar of jam, and that slippery jar ended up just like the one from the Thursday
before. So, I found a clerk, heard the intercom call for a cleanup on aisle
five, and we waited on the nice young man with the broom and the mop. I was embarrassed and very apologetic as I
had been the week before. The man looked at the mess then looked at me. He spoke
two sentences to me. He said, “Could you start coming in on Tuesdays? That’s my day off.” It wasn’t long after that and jam started
coming in plastic containers. And now
you know the reason for that! Ha. Sometimes a mother has to laugh off life's embarrassing little moments.
I have a lot of funny shopping
stories. Once, when we got to our
shopping destination, I had a toddler fall out of the van. Head first. I had an infant in a car seat balanced on my left
hip and only one hand free and a split second to prevent my child from landing
in the parking lot on her face. I
grabbed her by the ankle as she tumbled out and I jerked up. And there I stood… with a baby seat on my
left hip and a little girl (in a dress) dangling upside down from my right hand
above a hot parking lot. THAT was a hard situation to resolve. Sometimes a mom really does need more than
two hands.
Once Isaac was born, we almost never made
it through a trip to any store without at least one person stopping us to ooh and
aah over his beautiful eyes. Isaac has light blue eyes with a dark blue ring
around the outside. Women often wanted to admire his eyes. (They still do.) Around age three, Isaac had
taken all of it he could handle. If a lady approached him he’d hide his face.
If someone commented on his eyes, he would cry. Those poor ladies felt so badly
for terrorizing a preschooler! I considered putting a paper bag over the kid’s
head to hide those gorgeous eyes for a few years there. Sometimes mothers have to take drastic measures.
One of the stories I have told the most
over the years is about the time my oldest son had a major meltdown in a fabric
store. He was about four or five and at the time wanted to be a cowboy when he
grew up. He had a gun belt, a toy rifle, a cowboy hat, and a spring horse he
called, “Trigger.” He loved to watch “Davy
Crocket” and other movies in which the hero fought savages. We live near a town
that is both the home of a state university and a small Indian University. The
dramatic meltdown occurred when we were in a fabric store and a couple of men
walked by. The men were very tan with brown eyes and long black hair, obviously
Native American. My boy became hysterical, screaming, and scrambling to hide
behind me. He was shrieking, “Hide! They
will kill us! They will get their bows and arrows and kill us!” Luckily, the men found it amusing and were
not offended as I offered them my excuses and regrets. Being a mother is
sometimes very humbling.
I normally blog about autism and this post
would not be complete without memories of shopping with a young Tate. When Tate
was around eighteen months old he had some very unusual behaviors. I did not
yet know that these behaviors meant there was an autism diagnosis in his
future. I only knew that he was unique and very sensitive to many things that
he should have been able to tolerate and he was very aware of some things that
he should not have known at all. It was one of the most curious things I had
ever experienced but when we shopped we could NOT walk down the aisle that
contained cookies or we paid for it. Keep in mind he was the sixth child. I had
experienced tantrums in stores before. I had experienced scared children
before. I had experienced children who were in pain before. If Tate caught
sight of a package of cookies or if he HEARD the word cookie then he went from
docile to inconsolable and frantic. There was no way around it. I tried my best to do my shopping without
Tate along for quite a while. It is very
hard to avoid all signs of cookies when you are in a grocery store. Another thing Tate did in the stores began about
age two. He could “read” the product
names by singing their jingles to me or quoting their commercial to me as we
wandered through the store. When we saw
the Charmin toilet tissue he would say, “Less is more.” When we walked past the cereals he rattled
off jingles and advertising slogans one after another. I could hold up a tub of
margarine and he could tell me if it was Blue Bonnet or Parkay. He was not
exactly reading but he had all the products matched to their commercials. He
could memorize commercials, picture books, songs, or movie dialogue after just
hearing it a couple of times IF he was interested in it. He still can but only IF it is something that
appeals to him. He cannot/will not
memorize math facts quickly, the name of states, or anything useful that we
would like for him to retain. It is
maddening the way his brain works! Mothers sometimes have to accept what they cannot change.
I have so many precious memories of my
little ones. My kids continue to bring me joy as they grow but I will always
miss them as babies too. Things were often a
blur when I had so many little ones all at once but I am able to remember many
of the special things they did and I tried to write some of them down in their
baby books too. I have many more
memories to share in the future. If you are a mother, jot down the embarrassing
moments, the things that make you smile and the things that are unique about
your child. Someday you will be very
glad you did it because sometimes Moms like to remember.
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