“It’s time for Mommy’s treat,” I say. Because it’s been a long day for me too, and I am such a good mother
WOLVES When I am older and my kids are married I will buy myself Danishes and croissants hazelnut frappés and Rosemarie chocolate bars wafer rolls and brownie bars. But a treat is not a treat if you have to eat it with one hand while using the other to fend off the wolves howling for a taste
T he end of a long shopping trip is when I start handing out treats.
I’m not a bribing kind of mother but I get exhausted from walking for so long; maneuvering the stroller which gets heavier with each bag hung from its handles; holding up headbands and trying to visualize Shabbos outfits; navigating through shopping carts and children and frighteningly well-dressed women with groceries balanced on my baby’s feet and then back to Aisle Three because I forgot yogurts and then waiting and waiting at the register while the cashier says something to her friend shouts at the stock guy sighs and starts looking up codes for the fruit and runs my credit card twice before it goes through…
By the end of all this I am so physically and spiritually depleted that I feel a kind of awe for my children who have to take two steps for every one of mine and who don’t get the satisfaction of crossing things off their to-do list — which is what keeps me going.
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