Then I reached the pasta isle and things went south fast. Eran woke and started fussing first followed by Darian, who lost the mooshy, slobbery bit of cookie he had left. I cleaned his hands and face the best I could with a wet wipe while trying to quiet Eran. Eran wasn't having it. Then I got a whif of him. No wonder he was crying! With poopy noodle strapped to my chest where I got to share in his aromatic diaper creation, and the cookie monster crying for another cookie, I hurried down the isle pushing the cart and got in line.
It was a bit crowded and people were turning and looking at us. I danced in place for Eran's sake while simultaneously offering Darian a bottle of water, which he kept knocking away. As we inched forward in line, Darian starts grabbing at Eran, kicking his feet and crying. He managed to pull us closer to the cart and starts gnawing on the baby pouch where the noodle was. Figuring out Eran was not what he was after, Darian returned to pulling us closer to nuzzle me. Lord help me, he was wanting to eat! I had to make him let go and sit back in the seat. That made him angrier.
By the time we reached the cashier I had sweat running down my face and back. I unloaded the cart as fast as possible, danced, tried to quiet Darian, thrust money at the cashier, got my bags and pushed that cart to my car like it was a race. I got my screaming, stinky kids in the car seats, put the bags in the trunk, got in the car and started to cry with them. A cop got out of his car across from us, walked by looking at me in the drivers seat crying and blowing my nose into a tissue. He motioned for me to roll the window down then peeked in at the boys and asked if everything was ok. Feeling completely stupid, I assured him I was and explained it was the first time for me going out alone with two babies and I was a little over whelmed. He laughed and said "Ah, well the worst they can do is cry, right? Just take a deep breath and relax a minute. It'll be alright. Be careful driving home ok?" With that he headed toward the grocery store and I glanced back at my kids whose eyes were squeezed shut, faces red and mouths open crying in the car seats.
Once I got home and unloaded the groceries with stinky little Eran still in the pouch and Darian on the floor, I put the cold food away, left the rest still in bags, scooped Darian up and off we went to get clean diapers and a snack. While they quietly nursed drifting off to sleep, I looked down at my adorable moosh mooshies and thought "Who are you kids? Where did you come from?"
Who knew a first shopping trip would be so traumatic?
