What "Karma's" Around...

I remember, when I was much, much younger, in the BC days (Before Children) when I would watch other parents or caregivers with their kids and think, "How can they let their kids act like that? If that were MY kid, I would MAKE her listen!"

Oh, blissful, blissful ignorance.

The other day, I was out doing errands with my three kids. Our last stop was the pharmacy, where I usually use their god-send of a drive-thru. For some reason that I cannot recall now, I elected to traipse inside with all three kids.

Now, I love all of my children. Most days I wouldn't trade them for anything. The problem with having more than two, however, is that once you have more kids than you have hands, all bets are off. And any parents of 3+ kids will tell you, the big problem is never caused by the baby, snugly secured in the baby carrier. Often the problem is caused by the rambunctious almost-three-year-old. The same child who, months earlier, you could take anywhere without a problem.

Now? Problem.

Other times that I've gone into the pharmacy, the Princess has played in the toy aisle and/or been doted on by the pharmacy staff, showered with compliments and lollipops. This time around, however, Thing One and Thing Two were more the center of attention. All was good while our prescriptions were being filled, but when it was time to go, the Princess dug in her heels and flat out refused (which is becoming a familiar refrain). With Thing Two in my arms and Thing one in his carrier, I cycled through my options. Previously, I would have just picked up my oldest daughter and carried her out of the store, no matter how much she protested, then dealt with the "talking-to" portion in the car. With no way to do that, I wasn't sure what to do. Using my most stern parenting growl ("You come here right this moment young lady!") without invoking any threat that I couldn't fulfill- she's called my bluff before and I know better now- I told her it was time to go. Then she did something I don't think she's ever done before.

She ran away.

Have you ever tried to chase a three year old while loaded down with two babies, their winter gear, and prescriptions (which include six large bottles of Pedialyte)? It's not pretty. I really had no idea what to do. And I felt like the entire pharmacy staff was watching me, waiting to judge whatever decision I made next. Do I let her run around the store and assume she'll get back to me eventually (and that she won't run out through the automatic doors, or that some stranger won't lure her outside with the promise of a Snickers bar)? Do I put down the baby who is in the infant carrier and take off around the store looking for my firstborn? Do I just plop down on the floor in front of the checkout counter and rip into whatever candy bar is closest and try to pretend none of this is really happening?

While the last option was tempting, I went with the second one- I left Thing One at the pharmacy checkout and walked the store perimeter until I found my little Princess.

The story doesn't end there. Nor does it get any better.

The chasing, throwing things, kicking things continued until I could catch up to her and literally caught her in my free arm. Then, another dilemma. How to get out of the store? A kindly staff member helped me get everyone and everything out to the car, but not before the princess practically took out a Christmas card display and cookie kiosk, and I accidentally smacked my young son in the head with a bottle of grape Pedialyte.

After thanking the very nice staff person profusely, I sat in the car with my three now-wailing children and just thought quiet thoughts to myself. I was so incredibly angry with my daughter for acting, well, her age, as my husband pointed out when I came home and reiterated the whole, long, embarrassing tale to him. After all, I wasn't angry with my sons for crying while we were out- they're babies, it's what they do. So why was I upset that my daughter showed her three-year-old colors while we were out in public? Is the opinion of the Rite Aid staff really THAT important to me? I'm pretty sure from the looks on their faces more than one of them were having the same thoughts that I used to have when I saw people out with their misbehaving kids- "How can she let her kid get away with that? If that were MY kid I would lay down the law! I would MAKE her listen!" Does it really matter that much to me what they think?

I'd love to say no, it doesn't matter at all, but I'd totally be lying. It might not keep me up at night, but there's also a part of me that doesn't really want to be known as the world's worst parent, either. Although you also might argue that to write this blog the way I do, and to be as honest about the parenting issues that arise as I have been, caring about what other people think can't be my number one concern or else you wouldn't be reading this.

As for judging other people's parenting and thinking I knew it all? Once I had my own kids, I was cured of that. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure that the trait is genetic. If my friends' stories are to be believed, I also have a sneaking suspicion that it might rear its ugly head again when I become a grandparent.