'I'm sorry', said a lady as she watched me interact with my children near the flower section at the downtown Whole Foods.
'This brings back memories', she continued. She gave me a knowing look and assured me I would eventually get through these difficult times. Cinnamon was insisting on taking a huge orange to eat instead of something less messy and easier to handle whilst walking around. I kept telling her 'no' and convinced her to take a small Gala apple instead.
The store has a section near the front door where kids can have one piece of fruit each to eat whilst the parents busied themselves with the groceries. I had thought the children would have been full from having just finished two breakfast tacos each, but they were still hungry and decided on fruit. Sage opted for a banana whilst the girls each took a small apple which they ended up not finishing.
'Any advice on how to survive this' I asked the lady as I was ready to start my shopping.
'Wine' she replied. I told her wine was my next stop. I later saw her again by the bakery and pointed to the wine bottle on the bottom of the cart. All three children were sitting in the cart as it was easier for me to contain them in one area whilst focusing on the food I needed to buy. Pushing the cart around, I got plenty of glances from other parents who most likely knew how I felt.
After our morning of shopping, we returned home and did not venture out the rest of the day. Both Saffron and I were tired and ready for a nap. She kept closing her bedroom door to keep her sister out as Cinnamon did not wish to sleep but played with her brother instead. I knew I was not going to get the undisturbed rest I needed though I tried as best I could.
Many times throughout the day I kept hearing doors slamming shut. 'Mama, Saffi won't let me in' is something I have been hearing much of this past week. Today was no exception. I threatened to remove all of the doors from their bedrooms and bathroom if they did not stop slamming them. They did not seem to care.
At the old place, the children slept in an open area upstairs. They did not have bedrooms and thus no doors to slam. Then I recalled the time in college when our class went on a tour of our art teacher's unique multi-level house in San Pedro. Whilst walking through the house, I was intrigued by the absence of any interior doors. The only doors were the front door and the one leading to the roof where Jay McCafferty, our teacher, did his unique paper burning art, known as 'solar paintings'.
No doors throughout the interior of the house might be what I choose for my next home. In this home, I will simply remove them if the slamming of them continues when the children are here next time.