Adulting is Hard. So...Coffee...Now Please.

As a mom of three kiddos under 5 years-old, this is sometimes all too true.

I know...the saying, "Adulting is Hard" is a thing now. A meme or something. Maybe it has been said so much it is a genuine cliché, but it is said so often because it is too true and this morning it was too real.

After dropping the ladies off at preschool, the little man and I drove off in search of a minor miracle (at least for this mom of three). We were going to try this new service we heard about - order groceries online, drive to a special spot in the store parking lot, and then someone would bring my order to my car - they promised - what!? They said I didn't even have to get out of my car. Seriously!? Turns out this magical service does exist and so I may never again ask my three-ring circus to leave the car. I may never again ask the baby - while strapped to me, facing forward, reaching toward the item that I am reaching for, racing me to see if my arms are longer than his or if I can maneuver in a way to obtain the much-sought-after item while deftly denying him the same success - to not to. I may never again ask the girls to hold hands and please walk at something faster than a snail's-pace but slower than a run and for heaven's sake please do watch where you are going so that you do not run into the person/car/sign/giant red ball...yippee.
After going through even more "never agains" in the "quiet" (haha) of my mind, I found my feeling of triumphant success start to waver. Had I become so bad at managing the chaos, at rolling with the punches, at "Adulting" that I really couldn't handle getting my own groceries with all three kids in tow. Maybe. Is that bad? I don't know, but for now I decided to just enjoy the small break given to me by the childless teenagers loading the bags into my trunk, and in a successful small moment of adulting, I did not laugh when one almost shut the tail gate on the other.

After getting home and settling into looking at the morning as a triumph - one where I had procured a weeks worth of food and supplies, driven back home, and was still going to get the baby into his room in time for his morning nap - I found that I was out of his hypoallergenic formula. Gone. Nada.

So, it is an appropriate cliché, at least for today. Adulting is hard. I am going to go drink some Coffee (and then go buy more formula).