Shopping with a toddler is hell. No holds barred, that’s what it is. Hell. You can not take your child successfully out in public until they are at least 10. Okay maybe that’s a stretch – I met my stepdaughter when she was 8 and she was pretty good. No tantrums. So, we’ll say 8 then.
Walmart a few months ago (she was still two) – Baby Girl has been pretty low key on this trip. Not phenomenal but no kicking, crying, laying on the floor, or otherwise making me cringe. Of course, we’ve only dropped in quickly to grab a few things on our way to Baby Girl’s first ever movie theater experience. We are at the checkout and Baby Girl spies the tiny Disney princess figurines they keep there just to MAKE DAMN SURE you don’t leave Walmart with all of your sanity and without an extra bottle of wine. She is playing with them while I check out. Fine, no problem. Then… Baby Girl, we need to go. Put those back please. “Mommy!!! I want one! I need one! Pweaseeeee!!” No, Baby, put them back. Slowly and grudgingly she puts them all back. Except one. That one too, Baby, put it down. “NOOOOOOO I NEED IT I WANT IT MOMMY I NEED IT SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE” Sighing and ignoring the people around me, I go to pick her up at which point she instantly becomes a limp, but still screeching, spaghetti noodle. I have no idea how she does it, but somehow her limbs all become double jointed and she can slip out of my grasp any which way she wants to. The kid needs to be the next Houdini, the way she can just manipulate her limbs like this. She’s still hysterically screeching, I’m still trying to get a hold of her, and I finally get the princess out of her mechanically strong grasp and lob it to the cashier while simultaneously pushing the cart with my foot to get the Hell out of Dodge. While gasping over my shoulder at all the onlookers, saying I SWEAR SHE’S MINE – I’M NOT A KIDNAPPER.
Have you ever tried to put a mini-Houdini and/or limp spaghetti noodle that sometimes goes rigid just for the fun of it in a car seat? Fun times. Once, I just stood there in the parking lot while it was 800 degrees (car door open of course) waiting for her to decide to cut the shit out. A lady walked by and looked at me, and I said “oh I’m just waiting for the tantrum to be over.” She actually laughed and said “I’ve been there.” Thank God for you lady.
So anyways, tantrum finally subsides and we move on to the movie theater. We’re going to see Sing at the Dollar Theater. Just in case she doesn’t make it through the movie I won’t have wasted a shit ton of money. Seriously a good call on my part. Baby Girl is totally happy munching on her popcorn for about thirty minutes. Then she gets restless. “Mommy can we leave?” What? I say – you want to go home? “Yes.” I try to wait her out but she’s about to start crawling on her hands and knees under the seats so I give in and we leave. In the lobby there is this car game where you put money in and then pretend you are driving a car really fast until you crash. Baby Girl spends about twenty minutes playing on this thing (without the quarters) until I am thoroughly bored. Hey Baby, let’s go ok? “NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” How is this more entertaining than the movie that I actually paid for? I finally convince her to leave with minimal fuss and we are sauntering down the mall halls (or what the hell ever you call them) and we are about to turn left to leave through the food court when Baby Girl spies……. THE PLAY AREA.
OH SHIT. In my head I’m screaming “NO NO NO NO!!!!” But she’s already heading towards it. “Mommy I want to play!!” CRAP CRAP CRAP. How did I get myself into this?! I wildly search for an escape – anything, ANYTHING but the play area! She’s there already kicking her shoes off and climbing up everything that every other kid and their snot has already been on. Seeing as how I have two choices – either give in or pick her up and insist we leave immediately – I decide to give in. Sure, Baby Girl, you can play for a few minutes. But we have to leave soon, ok? I might as well have been speaking Mandarin Chinese for all Baby Girl cared. So I sit down and scroll through my phone while keeping one eye on Baby Girl and the germs she’s accumulating. She makes sure she doesn’t miss any by crawling on her hands and knees and practically licking everything in sight.
She’s having a blast and I snap a few pictures. Finally I break it to her gently – it’s time to go Baby Girl. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I WANT TO PLAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
I finally pick her up and we have a repeat of the above scenario only this time she is over my shoulder while the other arm has her shoes and socks. Repeat on the car seat thing too.
As we FINALLY drive away I vow to myself to never come to the mall again. No more movies, no more Mommy wants to entertain the child and be a nice, fun Mommy. Mommy is going to buy extra wine and the kid is going to play in the house until she’s nine.
Baby Girl will not remember any of this when she’s older of course, and I’ll get to torture her with all the fun memories. Hopefully in front of a boy or two. Cuz I’m cool like that.
