Yesterday we were heading to a play date and I decided to swing by Whole Foods with all 3 kids. I should have learned a long time ago that there is no “swinging by” anywhere with 3 kids, and that no container of cut-up fruit was worth hauling all of them into the store. BUT…you know me. I think I’m invincible. So I load Norah into a carriage and the other two are walking because the carriages at Whole Foods (and Trader Joe’s by the way) are too small for Adlani to fit into the basket comfortably, plus I’ve been hearing about some kooks who get upset about the germ factor of putting kids into the basket and the last thing I need on a Sunday morning is flak from a fellow shopper. Just a word on the germophobia…have they ever considered what gets on the carts while they’re out in the parking lot? Acid rain, bird poop, caterpillar slime? Or the fact that the last person who pushed the carriage probably didn’t wash their hands after they *dropped the kids off at the pool*? Whatever.
So I make it into the store, select my cut-up fruit, and head for the register. That was just too easy, so Aliya knocks 6 packs of blueberries off the giant stack of blueberry packs, and I have to stop to pick them up, scoop up the loose berries and stuff them back in the packs…
Take THAT Germophobes!!… and pile them back up for the next kid who walks by. I make my way to one of the two open registers…Whole Foods isn’t that busy at 10 o’clock on a Sunday morning, right?…and somehow complete the transaction while holding Norah down as she tries to stand up in the carriage seat, thwarting Aliya’s attempts to buy several $3.99 individual truffles, and preventing Adlani from wandering out into the parking lot.
We get out through the air curtain and I have the brilliant idea to leave the carriage at the in-store carriage return because God forbid some carriage collector will see me 
leaving the carriage out in the parking lot. I exit the store carrying Norah, the cut-up fruit, my keys and wallet (maybe it’s time for me to break down and carry a pocketbook), while holding Adlani’s hand and keeping tabs on Aliya. On the way to the car I notice a guy just getting ready to drive off with his coffee on the roof of the car. I veer over toward him and start gesturing frantically with the cut-up fruit and the hand holding Adlani’s. Since that didn’t elicit any reaction other than possibly causing him to drive away faster because a crazy lady was waving her cut-up fruit and her 3-year-old at him, I used my only free appendage, my left foot (raised high and proud), to point at the coffee while balancing on my right foot, holding Norah, the cut-up fruit, my keys, my wallet, and Adlani’s hand. I simultaneously mouthed the words, “YOUR COFFEE’S ON THE ROOF!!!”
He finally got it and I veered back toward my own car and secured everyone before heading to the play date. As we drove away Aliya said, “At first when we were walking I didn’t know why you started walking the wrong way. And then I realized that you’re always looking for a crime to help because you’re SUPERMOMMY!” I usually use my pseudonym sarcastically…as in “Of course I can brush your hair even though I’m already brushing Adlani’s teeth, tying Norah’s shoes, and cooking breakfast…I’m SUPERMOMMY!” But I think it’s caught on because lately when Adlani can’t get my attention by repeating “Mommy?” multiple times, he says “Supermommy?” and it works every time.
Here I am in my Supermommy ensemble:
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And here’s my trusty sidekick Spiderdog:
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And my friend and fellow crime-fighter, Supermom (I can’t divulge her identity but her boobs really look like that.):
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Happy Mother’s Day to all of you Supermoms out there!!!
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