My middle one wanted to know why we couldn't just live at Costco. My oldest, who is at the age where everything is either deeply embarrassing or deeply unfair, informed me that I was "being weird" in front of the sample lady, who, to her credit, did not even flinch. She has seen things.
By the time we got to the parking lot, I was carrying a flat of water, two children, and approximately zero patience. The cart return was, of course, on the opposite side of the lot from where I'd parked, because the universe enjoys irony. And that is when it happened. Not a movie meltdown, not a quiet single tear rolling down my cheek while soft music plays. A full, unfiltered, "I cannot do this right now" yell, aimed at no one and everyone, somewhere between an SUV with soccer stickers and a man trying very hard not to make eye contact with me while loading his trunk.
Here is what nobody tells you about that moment. It is not actually about the hot dog, or the cart, or the printer ink. It is about every single thing that has been quietly stacking up since six in the morning, since the alarm that didn't go off, since the email you forgot to answer, since the load of laundry that has been "almost done" for three days. The Costco parking lot just happened to be where the stack finally tipped over.
I am not going to tell you I handled it gracefully. I did not. I sat in my car for four full minutes before I started the engine, breathing like I'd just run a marathon I never signed up for. My kids, to their credit, went quiet in the back seat in that specific way kids go quiet when they sense they should not push their luck.
What I want you to know, if you have ever lost it somewhere fluorescent and public, is that you are not a bad mom. You are a tired one. There is a difference, and nobody puts that difference on a parenting blog with a calming color palette. Good moms lose their sh*t too. We just don't usually do it on camera, and when we do, somebody's uploading it before we've even buckled the car seats.
I went back the next week. I bought the hot dog before we shopped. Small lessons. Big lots.
