I’ve always tinkered with online shopping. But now I’m a parent it honestly is the best thing that’s ever been Invented.
You see, I’ve come to realise that I lack patience anyway in shops. Other people getting in the way of the tops I want to look at, the shoes I want to try on or the cake I want to drool over really tests my character.
Throw in the mix a toddler who wants to pull anything breakable off the shelves and is a milkybar button away from a knee-buckling tantrum.
It’s all just too much.
Since Ella was born, I’ve tried to order a food shop to arrive every Sunday night. This stemmed from having a section and being unable to lift things. I’d order enough milk, nappies and wipes to see us through the week alongside the usual groceries.
This continued throughout maternity leave as I’m all for an easy life and this indeed made my life much easier.
Bath, bottle, bed then ding-dong. Sunday night food delivery.
It kept the rest of the week free for me to doddle around baby groups and boot camps. Alleviating at least one stress in my life.
So this has inevitably continued when I’ve gone back to work. I have even less free time now and I refuse to spend it battling with other people and a toddler in the shops.
My free time is precious and I’d rather be out in the park or woods – the better version of me spending time with Ella.
Pretty good mindful routine right?
So why on earth did we agree to do our pre Center Parcs food shop in store with a toddler this week??
Firstly, I grossly misjudged the amount of stuff we needed and got a small trolley.
With no child seat (she wouldn’t have sat in it anyway).
Well. The Man Who Lives With Us put her in the trolley. Obvs she loved it. Whizzing around the sock aisle (as again- aaaaaalways need socks). Living her best life.
Then the first tremors of rebellion.
She wants to get out.
I suppose rightly so really. The items need to go in their respectful place. The trolley.
So far so good. Until she decides to help put the items in the trolley.
Then it’s a case of lifting her up, only to hand her the multi pack of crisps (that were at the correct height to begin with to go in the trolley), to then be thrown in full pelt. Making crumbs of crisps.
The beige tea aisle involved aeroplane role-play diving into the freezers. Why ever not?
Obviously the triggers for that ever-brewing tantrum took place in the alcohol aisle. So fitting as that’s the only antidote that will see you through this. Yet you spend your time terrified the hurricane you birthed is about to set free every drop of alcohol that is jailed inside a glass bottle.
The final kick in my motherhood ass is no doubt the checkout.
Unloading the sodden trolley not quite as quick as they scan them through. Too proud to accept ‘a hand with packing’ when it’s quite clear that I need all the help I can get. The Man has The Little Lady restrained while I’m profusely sweating trying to pack the bags and hoy them in the trolley.
Once upon a time I would’ve been embarrassed. Now I can barely conceal my rage and frustration.
This kind of stress would not have gone down if I’d ordered online in the comfort of my home in my PJ’s.
‘Well that was feckin stressful’ I fume as we stomp out the store.
And try to squeeze it all in the car.
Again, if we’d done this online we could’ve packed the car all at once at home. In a more streamlined, logistical fashion.
But hey-ho it’s done now.
Except when you’re halfway down the motorway and realise you’ve forgotten nappy bags, coffee and peppa pig yoghurts. Oh and to post your Auntie’s birthday card.
I’m all for an easy life. And sitting on my backside at home in my jarmies, I have all the time in the world to browse and shop.
With no distractions.
So I don’t forget anything.
And most importantly.
I keep my sanity.
Love Missuswolf xxx
Images from Unsplash