The Wal-Martization of My Family

Yesterday, I took both kids with me to Wal-Mart because I needed a ton of groceries and well...it is just cheaper there.

So, we loaded up early and arrived at the house of Doom. I decided to let Asher just run beside the cart because I needed to 1) Wear him out by making him walk and 2) I hate pushing the giant double cart around in the store.

So that was mistake #1. It all went well for about 10 minutes and then Asher started touching everything in the store and trying to put it in the cart. Anything he saw, he grabbed. So I had to nip that in the bud.

But he was excited and in a good mood, so we continued. He was being a really good "helper" for a good portion of our time. But around the 45 minute mark, things went steadily downhill as he started just grabbing things off the shelf and throwing them in the cart. Eventually this came to a head in the produce department where he grabbed a red delicious apple (which are NOT delicious and are instead mealy and gross) and took a big bite. Yep. You guessed it. I am about to become the Wal-Mart mom who beats her kid in public.

I don't. I take a deep breath and talk to him without opening my mouth through a clenched jaw. When I speak to him this way, it is my version of a warning shot. Usually, he perks up because he knows that the end is near.

It does not work however. I make him walk with me holding hands and he refuses. In fact, he just yells, "NO!" at me. Ah-ha. My sweet little boy yelling "no!" in the middle of the giant main aisle of Wal-Mart. So, I give him a pop on the bottom and insist on the hand holding. Again, he yells, "NO!" And, all of the bones in his body disappear as he drops to the ground.

At this point, I want to throw him into the Plus Sized department and wear him out. But, I noticed this desire and took another deep breath. I told him, "You have to hold hands or you are in time out." "NO!" Okay, Time-Out in the middle of Wal-Mart. Why not? I mean it is not like I have frozen food, milk, yogurt and cold cuts in my cart.

Twenty minutes later, we are STILL in timeout. At this point, Asher does this, "I have to go pee-pee." Through the snot and tears, I (being the great mom I am) tell him its too bad, unless he wants to hold hands. He throws himself FACEDOWN onto the ground and then a little bit of pee leaks out.

Guess who wins? The two and half year old wins. But now, I am in a dilemma. I have a cart full of groceries, along with my 17-month old daughter and my purse is at the bottom of the cart. How am I going to take all of this into the bathroom with me and obstinate child?

Since we had been in timeout for twenty minutes, we assembled quite a crowd of Wal-Mart employees who just wanted to watch the Death Match and I approached one of them. Mercifully, she said that she would watch Lucy while I take Asher to the bathroom. We return one minute later, checkout and get as far from there as quickly as I could.

Did I win? No. Did I lose? No. Because I did not get reported to the Department of Social Services. This time.