This weekend started off like all of the rest since I became a parent the second time around. Screwing up my courage, I picked the boys up from preschool where they were only a little wild and squirrelly. Only one kid cried and hid from me when I showed up. Things were looking up. No one could find their boots and their winter clothes looked like they’d been mudding. One kid wasn’t even wearing socks. In Ontario, Canada. In January. But that’s okay because laundry happens on the weekends. Weekends are fun like that.
I should probably put it out there that I struggle with weekends at the best of times. I know people are all like “Oh, hey! It’s the weekend! TGIF!” but if you have little kids at home I’m willing to bet you’re not the one thinking TGIF as you ride home on Fridays. Weekends with FASD pre-schoolers are pretty much a wild ride of crazy behaviors that all come out at once after a long week on overload.
On Saturdays I like to get groceries because I have this long standing fantasy that if I involve the boys in planning meals, they’ll actually eat those meals. I’m delusional like that. I don’t know why I ever think this is a good idea. Probably because of the way the weekend looks like it will go on forever when you wake up on Saturday morning too afraid to make plans and too afraid not to.
Weekend plans are pretty minimal, truth be told, since we don’t get invited anywhere these days. Years of declining invitations because the boys can’t handle things or I don’t have a sitter pretty much dealt with the inconvenience of having all those fun options to sort through. So I like to fill Saturday mornings with grocery shopping to keep things fun.
Grocery shopping with two kids isn’t really rainbows and unicorns at any age but when they’re 3 and 4 and have FASD it’s just an exercise in crazy making. Or, extreme scavenger hunting, as I like to call it. We’re lucky enough to actually have a store in town that seats two kids in a cart. A very expensive store where you pay for bags and have to pack your own groceries but the whole two kids to a cart calls to me every time. #wellplayedcanada
Once I’ve herded them into the cart with the shared leg holes (picture trying to load 10 drunk and well oiled cats in a small carrier at the same time), the fun really begins. The licking, biting, kicking, and personal invasion of space are what takes grocery shopping over the edge into extreme scavenger hunting. Sometimes the boys like to shove my hands off the cart handle while I’m pushing it while I’m busy trying to find an item from our list. That’s good for a laugh. Occasionally, one or the other will give my hand a little nip just to remind me that they’re still there. Inevitably, one kid will kick me in the groin repeatedly while smiling at me. I think he’s smiling at my fancy footwork as I try to jump out of the way of his boot. Or maybe he just likes me. Because when I tell him he’s kicking me he denies doing any such thing.
This weekend’s grocery trip was pretty special because one kid managed to grab my pen and my list from my hand and threw them at the nice lady looking at the apples. In his defense, she was taking an awfully long time. I mean, they’re apples, not diamonds. Make a freakin’ decision already.
While I bent over to chase the pen, apologizing profusely to the lingering apple lady (who actually wasn’t nice at all), one kid kicked me in the mouth.
With his winter boot.
I think it was an accident but I’m not really sure. Either way, the cut on my lip and gums will probably help me with that whole over eating thing that happens when I’m bored on weekends.
The boys like to lick and smack each other while I’m searching for things on our list. And shout to me about all the things they think we should buy. Shouting is important because I probably wouldn’t hear them otherwise with them sitting five inches from my face and all.
Sometimes they manage to grab whatever catches their eye because I’m trying not to be rude by pushing my crazy cart down the middle of the aisle. Other shoppers don’t like when you do that.
That would probably explain why I had a package of tampons in my cart this weekend. Since I’m mercifully past the age of needing those sorts of things, I was mildly surprised to find that little pink box on the conveyor belt. It must have been the pretty packaging that caught their eye while I was looking for their Pediasure. Because lets face it, they’re not going to actually eat any of thing that I make this week, now are they?
I think my favorite thing about grocery shopping with the boys is the pizza we inevitable order for dinner since I’m too tired to cook and all. Weekends are the best. One day, I’m going to find a babysitter and take a small vacation. In the grocery store. Alone.