I went to Sam’s Club today to get my back tire looked at and do some shopping. By the time I was finished, both of my girls were ready for a nap and had pretty much had it. Reese decided to throw a total fit while we were in the line to get lunch before we left. At one point, she reached out to hit me. I moved out of the way, then calmly buckled her into the shopping cart seat and told her she was in a time out for hitting me. She continued to throw a fit and I continued to ignore her while I ordered us some pizza and got 2 cups for water. As we are heading over to the soda fountain, Reese starts whining that she doesn’t want to be in time out anymore, and Quincy starts crying. I set the pizza down in the cart next to Reese so I can fill our drinks and she goes crazy, “I DON’T WANT PIZZA! I WANT A PRETZEL! YOU ARE A BAD MOMMY!”
Oh no you didn’t little girl. I have cut Reese a little slack since we are coming down from a 2 week high of grandparent spoilage, but I do NOT tolerate sass from a 3 year old.
Meg: “That is enough, Reese. You do not get a pretzel because you hit me when we were in line. You can stop throwing a fit and eat pizza for lunch, or you can be hungry.”
Reese begins whining and reaches back to hit her sister.
I take a deep breath “Ok, that is your choice. You can sit in the cart and have time out while Quincy (Who is crying) and I eat lunch, and then we will go home and take a nap.”
Reese: “NOOOOO!!!! I DON’T WAN------“
“Excuse me.” A woman is standing literally 3 inches from my face (I do not handle close talkers well)
Crazy Lady: “I know this seems strange, because you don’t know me. But I am a messenger from God and I need to talk to you.”
Oh well that’s just great. I have PLENTY of time to be polite and listen right now. But then I think about all those missionaries serving MY church out there and put on my nice face.
Meg: “um... ok” I am still very uncomfortable with how close to me she is standing, and the fact that my baby is screaming behind her does not help. I take a step back and get the cups out and ready to fill…you know, hoping to appear as busy and distracted as I actually am. Perhaps she will take the hint that I do not have time for a spiritual message and move along.
Reese: “Who's that mommy? I want a pretzel mommy! I I don’t like her mommy! I want pizza mommy! Mommy MOMMY MOMMY MOM-MMMMMMYYYYYY!!!”
Meg: “Shhhh, In a minute, Reese”
Crazy Lady: “I need to tell you why you can not let your child hit you. How old is she? Two?
Meg: is this lady for real? “Just turned Three.”
I am now filling the cups with ice in one hand, and feeding Quincy olives from my pizza with the other, to keep her from screaming….which she does every time she swallows, because I am not feeding her fast enough and she gets mad if there is not another olive on its way to her mouth.
Reese: “MOMMY-MOMMY-MOMMY…”
Crazy Lady: speaking louder now...you know... so she can be heard over the ice machine and both screaming kids “you know she is only 3 right now, but she won’t always be, and then what are you going to do about her hitting you when she is 16? Are you Christian?
Well I’m not feeling very Christian right now, but….”Yes, I am” In my best sing-songy polite voice. Why can’t I find the water on this soda fountain???? I feel like I’ve been standing here forever…
Reese: “I don’t want to be in time out any more! I’m done I’m done!"
Crazy Lady: “Did you know that God has specifically chosen YOU to be the parent of these little children? He chose you because of your patience”
Meg: “MMmm Hmmm.” (WHERE IS THE WATER on this thing???)
Quincy is no longer pacified with the olives and just wants out of her bucket seat. I begin trying to un-buckle her, one-handed of course…and not really looking because I am still looking for the water on the soda fountain! Isn’t it usually on the lemonade or ice tea?
Reese: “I want water I want water I want water I want down I’m done mommy mommy I’m done and I want water mommy let me down I want a drink I’m done with time out who’s that mommy I’m done get me down mommy I want water mommy…”
Crazy Lady: “…You were chosen by God to raise these children because He knew you would have enough patience to deal with them…” She is following my every move so that no matter what I do she is always only inches from my face. I realize I have personal space issues, but this was total harassment. Block it out Meg, block her out.
Man, I am SO THIRSTY! WHERE IS THE FLIPPIN’ WATER?!
Reese: "...Mommy mommy..."
Meg: “Calm down, Reese. We’re going home soon, I’m just trying to find the water.”...and get rid of this psycho annoying lady...
Crazy Lady: “I can tell that you are not exercising your patience. God gave you your patience, and he gave you these children and YOU need to be more patient. That is why your children are so out of control. You are not using any patience. Exercise your patience”
Ah HA! There’s the water!
I thrust my cup into the machine with more force than necessary and turn toward the woman to say something when all of a sudden I’m soaking wet.
WATER IS SPEWING OUT OF THE WALL.
It’s like I’m standing in front of a fire hose. Quincy is soaked and her face is purple from screaming.
Reese is squealing about the water and has her arms flailing about in the air shielding her face as she screams.
Crazy Lady: “This is exactly what I am talking about. You don’t even take the time to notice that this machine is out of order. Don’t you read the signs?!!”
Where is it coming from? I can’t even see!
Reese: “Mommy! I’m getting all wet mommy, turn it off mommy” I seriously think her head started spinning.
Meg: "Yes, I KNOW, Ma’am. I can see now that the machine is broken, but how do I turn it off? It’s flooding the store!”
Crazy Lady: “You ignored the sign on the machine just like you ignore the sign from God that you need to be patient with your children! All you can think about is yourself and what YOU want and someday your out of control children are going to grow up and you won’t be able to handle them…just like you can’t handle them now because you do not use the patience God has given you!”
I got the fountain to turn off.
I am soaked and standing in an inch of water. The combo of the water incident and the screaming of Crazy Lady have drawn a crowd and someone goes to find a store associate and a mop. Franticly looking for something to do to keep myself from hurting this woman, I start grabbing napkins to soak up the water.
What happens to paper napkins in water? Oh they dissolve into mush, so now I am just stirring around a bunch (of what appear to be spit-wads) on the floor in Sams Club and both my children are crying, but all I can hear is:
Crazy Lady: “Exercise your patience! Exercise your patience! You aren’t going to let her just scream, are you? Even your baby has no manners. You’ve got to do something about that one too. I’ve been there, you know. I raised three of my own and I know this is no easy task, but you need to remember what God wants you to do and get your kids under control before they walk all over you! Get control! (get control? You are making me lose control, lady!) Exercise your patience!”
My blood is boiling. I have had enough. I slowly stand myself up out of the papery puddle (my shoes are so ruined) and look her in the face. (Which is easy, because she is still hovering over me like a hawk on a dead armadillo) Surprisingly, SHE is totally dry.
Meg: “Excuse me. But I AM exercising my patience. All OF IT. ALL of my patience is being used so I can still tolerate being here in the same room listening to you. We are going to go eat our soggy pizza now. If you have anything else you’d like to tell me about my horrible parenting skills please feel free to write me a letter.”
Crazy Lady followed us to our table.
Meg: “No. No thank-you. We’re actually done listening to your unsolicited advice”
Crazy Lady: “You know, I had a friend who reminds me a lot of you” (OH MY GOSH! I have GOT to get rid of her!)
Meg: “Here’s your pizza, Reese” (finally, her toddler-schizophrenia kicks in and she magically decides to cooperate. Quincy has settled to a whimper)
Crazy Lady: “My friend used to let her son hit her when he was young, and when he grew up he shot her.”
Seriously?!!!
Meg: Thank you, Reese for sitting so quietly. We are going to eat our lunch in peace because this woman is going to go away and leave us alone now. Won’t that be nice?
Reese: Oh thank you, Mommy, I looooove pizza.
Crazy Lady gave us one last look of disgust and decided to dust her shoes and move on. She returned to her table (full of shocked and equally disgusted comrades) and together they continued to damn me for being such a horrible mother to my out of control children.
Reese sat and quietly ate only the pepperoni from her soggy pizza and Quincy chewed on the receipt and we went happily on our way.
Crazy Lady, if you are out there in the blogosphere I hope you will remember to “exercise your patience” when you read this.
