Pickle Juice Wednesday

Pickle juice covered shoes.

3-year old screaming she can no longer feel her legs.

4-year old hollering for help after knocking over a giant Christmas display.

Wednesday.

Last week we were at the grocery just like we are every single week. Please don’t tell me about Amazon Prime Now or Kroger Click List. Dudes, I get it. I understand these grocery trips are my own fault because I do have ordering services available in our area. However, I like to pick out my own produce and my deli meat needs to be cut crazy thin. So, we shop. Honestly, we enjoy shopping unless we have a trip like Wednesday.

The biggest mistake I made here was taking them to Target first. I didn’t have food in the house, so we “brunched” at Target’s Starbucks. Cookies for breakfast resulted in 4 trips the restroom between the two of the potty-trained ones. You wanna know what hell on earth is like? Spend an hour in the Target bathroom.

My kids are guaranteed to be great at one stop. It’s when I push the limits to store #2, #3 or dare I say #4?! That’s when things turn dicey.

Stop #3.

Scene: spice aisle. Adam grabs a glass jar of Allspice off the shelf and throws it in the cart. It hits the sweet spot on the dill pickle jar, instantly shattering it. Glass goes all over my crazy thin sliced turkey, cheese, and grapes. Pickle juice soaks the mac and cheese boxes and floods the floor of the spice aisle. Luke runs to get help from the seafood man. “HEY! MY MOM SPILLED HER PICKLES DOWN HERE!” If you know my son, you know he has one octave.

We move on.

About 90 seconds later, Luke is looking back at the poor seafood man turned janitor as he starts mopping up pickle juice. Luke doesn’t see where he’s going and pushes the shopping cart straight into a giant saran-wrap and aluminum foil Christmas display. Boxes go everywhere. He runs back to the seafood man. “SIR! I KNOCKED OVER THE CHRISTMAS DISPLAY OVER THERE. I’M REALLY SORRY, GOTTA GO!”

We pick things up and move on.

Last aisle. Eden starts pulling on Luke’s hood preventing him to push the cart. I tell her to stop. She doesn’t.

We move on.

I ask Eden again to stop bothering her brother, this time there will be consequences. Immediately, Eden starts crying. Falls to the floor next to the ice machine. Screaming. “I CAN’T WALK! I CAN’T FEEL MY LEGS!” Mean mugs and daggers start shooting my direction.

I give up.

You see, this isn’t anything particularly unique or out of the ordinary from our everyday routines, but it really got me thinking on how to savor these moments of chaos. Savor sounds like a freaking joke when I’m in the moment, but when I retell the story to my husband or friends it’s hilarious.

Serious question, why is it so hard to appreciate the little things when we’re in the moment? Like all of you, I know this season of chaos is fleeting, yet it’s still so damn hard to appreciate it.

I used to be great at journaling. I was religious with writing, but then kids happened. Now when I have a moment of silence, I sit and stare at the wall like a damn loon. The last thing I feel like doing is using my brain.

In the New Year I want to hold myself more accountable with documenting days like “Wednesday” — because I do know they are fleeting. One day I’ll look back and consider myself a superhero. And honestly, my friends, that is what helps me push through today.

• What about you? How do you document every day chaos? Do you journal, social media or tell friends about it?
• Do you want to hold yourself more accountable? I’d love to hear your tips and tricks!