People of Wal-Mart

I hate Wal-Mart.

It’s dirty, it’s crowded, and I have to try to maneuver my cart around boxes that are left in the middle of aisles (Certainly this is a fire hazard, right?). It never fails that the strap in the cart is always broken and inevitably I end up with one that has wheels that clank loudly throughout the store as if announcing my arrival around every corner. Each time I leave, I feel like I need to go straight home to take a shower. Each time, I vow to never return.

And the people. There’s a reason there is an entire website dedicated to them. It never fails: If there is a crazy person in Wal-Mart, they will find me. Today was no exception.

I had to go pick up a prescription and return some items I have been putting off returning because: I hate Wal-Mart. While waiting in the Customer Service line of 20 people with only one employee working the register…

Woman Next to Me: “Are those your kids?”

Me: “Yes, they are.”

Woman: “All 3 of them?”

Me: “Uh huh.” (Oh Good, she can count…)

Woman: “See, those girls keep their bows in their hair!”, she tells her own daughter.

Me: “For now, anyway”  (Meanwhile, the line is barely moving)

Woman: “Her hair is really fine, so the bows don’t stay in too good. Oh damn, this rubber band just broke” (She proceeds to try to fix her hair in line).

Me: (Saying nothing at this point.. looking at my phone, talking to the kids)

Woman: “Tomorrow is the 9 year anniversary of my mother’s M-U-R-D-E-R…”

Me: “Oh gosh.. I’m so sorry to hear that” (meanwhile Kelsey has let out a HUGE gasp and her eyes are wide with horror)

Woman: “Oh, can she spell?”, pointing at Kelsey…

Me: “Yes, it’s okay though”, I say as I nod at Kelsey to assure her that is really is okay.

Woman: “Can she?”, pointing at Kirby (My 22 month old)

Me: “Uhm, no.”

Woman: “Oh. Well anyway, I haven’t showered in like a week, I’ve just been really worthless.

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry” (I think I might have even taken a few steps away from her at this point)

I really hate Wal-Mart. 

I eventually made it out of the line. Got what I needed to get, and waited another 20 minutes to check out in one of 6 lines out of 50 that were open this afternoon.

As I left Wal-Mart, I vowed to never return yet again. Yet somehow, I’m sure there will be a reason that I will be forced to walk through those automatic doors once again, to be greeted by a not-so-friendly greeter and welcomed into the madness once more.

I went straight home and took a shower. I hope that woman did too.

Mother, May I?

“Incredible change happens in your life when you decide to take control of what you do have power over instead of craving control over what you don't.” 
― Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free

Do you remember playing the game "Mother, May I?" when you were younger? One person would be the "mother", and he/she would bark orders to the other players. Before the player could follow that order, they must ask, "Mother, May I?", to which Mother would respond, "Yes, You may" or "No, You may not". 

I found myself in a rut the other day, envious of the freedom and flexibility that so many others have right now, or what they appear to have. I became overwhelmed with the thought that so many things were out of my control right now in my life and the reality of that burden weighed heavily on me both physically and emotionally. I am an adult though, right? An adult capable of making decisions and choices for myself, yet I feel as if I have to either do without or ask permission. Mother, May I?

At this point in my life, I live on a schedule dictated by children, and (long) gone are the days where my schedule determined the activities of my day. Want to make a phone call? Better wait until Kirby is napping or quietly focused on an activity. Need to go to the grocery store? Forget that, just order them online and pick them up later. Want something from the mall? HA! Next? Need to use the restroom? Can't. The baby is asleep in my lap and if I move he will wake up and then I'm back to square one again. Shower today? Hopefully I can sneak one in when the husband gets home from work later this evening and before bath times and feedings start again. Everything seems out of my control. Mother, May I?

I shared some of my frustrations with a friend the other afternoon post-my-sorta-breakdown. I admired her ability to take time for herself: to work out, to vacation, to breathe. And she reminded me that I am currently recovering from delivery, raising a newborn, toddler, and 6 year old, and that it will get easier to find the time I am so craving for me. I simply have to ask for that time, or if that is not possible right now, continue creating space for that time so that eventually it will be there for me. When I am ready. When it is right. 

For someone who is so used to being in control and commanding my immediate environment (Hey, teaching middle school is quite the challenge, am I right?), allowing myself to be vulnerable and submitting to the lack of control that I feel at this time is very difficult. And the reality is, it is going to be a while before I am back in charge of everything and I feel that sense of relief and calm. Until then, I need to take control over what I can and accept that it is enough. After all, I am the mother, and the only person I need to ask permission to do things for myself is myself. Kristin, May I?

Yes, You May.