The continuing saga of Kristine's adventures in the commissary continue...

Three hours in the commissary.

AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!

When I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed there were a lot of cars. No big, it was lunchtime, I figured everyone was in the food court.

Boy, was I wrong.

I had to wait in a line to get a cart.

I should have left.

I hadn't grocery shopped in 3 weeks.

Hmmm...suck it up or listen to the kids grumble (while trying not to let me hear it) about the breakfast (and lunch, and dinner) options.

Suck it up.

Run into an old friend and chat for a few minutes in the produce aisle, not bad so far.

Get down aisle 2, what are these weird displays?

Superbowl end caps that take up half of the aisle. This means only 1 cart can pass through at a time. Naturally, the elderly folks in the motorized carts get the right of way every time. Smile pleasantly and say hello...the first couple of aisles.

Aisle #3, two boisterously loud gentelmen taking up most of the aisle discussing all that is wrong with the Army and planning for retirement before it is too late, and not caring that they are blocking part of the newly narrowed entrance to the aisle. Grab applesauce and run.

They are out of the meat for a recipe I was planning. Browse through other meat while talking to self about backup recipes. "Hmm, that could work, do I have all the ingredients? How about that" Realize some very skinny, young, perky, well dressed female is staring at me. Stare back. Resist the urge to ask, "Why are you staring at me?". She realizes she is doing it and moves quickly away from me. I'd like to see her, someday, in the commissary after three kids.

Lord, forgive me.

Okay, bad mommy moment, you will probably judge me. I realize the baby is cute, but does every single grand or great-grandparent have to stop and coo at her?

And ask how old she is?

And ask if she's walking yet?

And comment on her teeth?

And tell me how it was, "back in their day"?

Breathe, smile, thank you for the compliments, she just turned 1, no she's not walking yet, yes there are only 6 teeth in there, she eats just fine, thank you for your unsolicited advice.

And repeat, and repeat, and repeat...

Pray A LOT for some extra grace. They are not trying to be rude or drive me crazy, I think.

Drug and hygiene aisle, baby loses her mind. It is past nap time, she has finished her crackers and milk, and had decided to try and rip apart the strap holding her in. Try and move faster.

Give her her toy cell phone that flips open and makes great noise. This works for two whole aisles until some old man gets in her face and warns her not to drop it or it will break. Try not to kick that man's cane out from under him while wheeling my now sobbing baby away from him. I'm not entirely sure he realized it was a toy, his glasses were actually recycled coke bottles.

Pray for forgiveness for the rude thoughts going through my head.

Open the string cheese and give some to baby. Happy once again.

Realize in the frozen aisle that it is 2:43. OMG! I have a meeting at the school in 15 minutes and I have been in here how long?

Grab milk. Crap, I forgot whole milk. Grab whole milk, Crap, I forgot the juice (this is what I sounded like talking to myself again). Grab bread and run for the checkout line. Looooooong line. Use the time in line to call for help as I will not be on time to pick up my kids let alone make it to the meeting.

Push meeting back 15 minutes, convince my very dear friend to take my girl children and my perishables back to my house, pay for groceries, load them, drive as fast as I legally can to the school while shoving a kitkat (lunch) in my mouth. Load perishables and girls into Stacey's car, grab boy, make it to meeting 1 minute late. Get call that I forgot to give them the garage door opener. Girls will now be going to Stacey's. Thank you Stacey. Have I told you how much I appreciate you?

After meeting realize that the milk is still in my truck and not Stacey's fridge.

Come home and feel utterly exhausted.

Why does grocery shopping take so much out of me? Is it just the commissary? If it is, I am out of luck. I have been running into whatever store is convenient for milk and such during the last three weeks, and checking out the prices on a few other things I buy, and there is no way I will be doing full shopping at any of them. I cannot stomach spending sometimes twice the price over the comm.

Planning my meals and such ahead of time is worth it since I won't have to go back for a bit, but that place makes me crazy.

At least I didn't fall this time.

I'm not laughing yet

So, today I went to the commissarry, three kids in tow. While I was there, as if a trip to the comm, on or near payday, with your children who started fighting as soon as you got there, wasn't bad enough, I fell. Yes, I fell. I stepped in a huge puddle and down I went, on my knee. If I wasn't so stressed and on the verge of tears and, at that moment, cranky with my kids, I would have probably laughed. But it hurt and not one person came to see if I was okay (did I mention it was payday week-it was crowded). Then the poor store worker whom I hollored at to ask for help and a mop, pointed out the 'Caution, wet floor' sign to me and asked if I saw it. I pointed out that I did see it, right where it was, three feet from the puddle, on the other side of the bin of melons, where the floor is completely dry. GRRR. There was a lot more about this trip that made it one of the worst I've ever had but, in the spirit of focusing on my blessings, I am trying to let them all go. Let's just say that if gas wasn't $4 a gallon, I might have gone home and come back another day, minus my little blessings. On the bright side, at least it was me and not an older patron. The way I went down in a split would have been a broken hip for sure. I will look at my bruised and slightly swollen knee as a public service. But, I'm still not laughing yet.