Supermarket insanity

It took all of three minutes in the store for something to go wrong.  They were both firmly grasping wooden mushrooms and a forest gnome each, enough magic to keep them safeguarded through what was bound to be a mild-to-moderately hellish experience.  We needed soymilk, orange juice, jam, and dinner. Water bottles and ziplock bags would also have been nice, if time allowed.

After a little mini-skirmish over what sort of plastic car we would put the groceries in. By the time we went down the FIRST AISLE, Isis had already pinched the bejeebus out of her brother and there were tears and screaming.

"Isis! Out of the cart!" I said. "You need to walk beside me for *two minutes.*" This was met with defiance and tears and howls on her part.  By this time I only had the "dinner" component in the cart. Isis wanted to be picked up and carried, which I wasn't about to do while pushing a large cart.  I gave her the options: walk for two minutes and then get back into the cart, or, if she continued to throw a fit, we would leave.

Fit continued.

I tried to return the frozen organic pizza to the freezer with as little annoyance as possible, but the kids were suddenly DESPERATE that we remain in the store. Ezra, who had done nothing at all, was heart-broken that the pizza was going back on the shelf.  "Ezra," I hissed placatingly in his ear, "we can order pizza for dinner. You're not losing anything."

"But that was a speeeeeeeeeeeeeeeecial pizza. And you're putting it baaaaaaaaaaack!" Ezra sobbed. Meanwhile, Isis trotted along beside me. "I WILL walk! I WILL walk!"

Everyone turned to stare as I resolutely marched from the store, now two fit-throwers in tow.

Carseats were buckled in the midst of the battle, and I settled into my seat and turned the car on.  Ezra's loud whining was starting to wear on my nerves.  "I. will. order. pizza." I told him.

"But-but-but you put back my PRECIOUS PIZZA!" came his reply, a long howl of sorrow, and he flopped back miserably into his car seat.

I had to stifle a laugh.  Isis, who had started the whole thing, was now staring placidly out the window at the passing forsythia blossoms.  Ezra, his previous pizza gone forever, hunched down with a furrowed brow and a sulky lip.  And I just kept thinking, "Damn. We REALLY needed soymilk."

Update: The fact that a new box of beeswax had arrived from Kinderhaus Toys when we got home meant that any lingering unhappiness quickly vanished. The kids ran around outside stealing flowering redbud and forsythia branches for the nature table, and then we went inside to play with the wax and wait for the pizza.  As a favor, their dad Jason brought milk and juice by and slipped it into the fridge while I was reading bedtime stories.  All in all, what could have been a disastrous evening ended fantastically well.

I almost forgot. Ezra used his new Stockmar block crayons for the first time tonight, too. We both drew a practice page with a blue border and alternating red and yellow horizontal strips fora  writing space.  Tiffeni Goesel of Kinderhaus had explained how I could tell a story about the Three Bears (using different sides of the block crayons) while Ezra drew. This genius idea worked like a charm, and soon Little Bear and a friend were walking down garden rows in straight, bold lines.  When he'd finished, he wrote: "Im am Ezra. Cannons go boom. Bi." And then drew a picture of all the parts of a cannon disassembled.  The axle holds a special fascination.