I can do this!

It’s a Friday evening. Trampolining training has been cancelled. This means I can finish off the busy week with a semi-normal evening. I’ve only got to make dinner for 2 children (and breastfeed another) as number 1 is off on a ‘play date’ at 4.30 pm. 4.30 pm….that gives me an hour (ish). I can do this!
How hard can it be to take a quick trip to Next with all four children? I only need to exchange a pair of shoes that I ordered online. (Just my fourth accidental purchase this week whilst browsing unnecessary items for the upcoming family holiday) - you know out of the “142 people who purchased this in the last hour” that pop up message that somehow forces your thumbs to scroll over and tap the ‘add to basket’ button, in the shear dread that person number 143 (that’s me) will be the one who has to wait 2-4 week for delivery, or worse, be told ‘sold out’ and then live in shame that the said shoes won’t match those of her sisters or somehow tell the husband that the holiday will simply have to be rearranged for when the delivery finally arrives. – thankfully this didn’t happen, but would you believe, of all those people, I was the one who received that factory faulty pair with 2 pieces of the same Velcro fabric attached at both ‘ends’ of the shoe, so it didn’t work…typical! The exchange trip means of course that number 3 will probably have to try on several pairs in store, but it’s warm outside, I’ll prepare them all with suitable footwear that can be easily slipped off. No problem.

I made the classic (and all too familiar) error in picking up a couple of pairs of denim shorts for number 1 just as soon as we got into the shop - aged 6 - which she is. No problem. After explaining to the lady on the checkout about the shoe that didn’t work - and demonstrating far too many times that it just wouldn’t stick, she refunded the item and we proceeded to browse the shoe aisle. Of course I’m far too organised for my own good and I also picked up my package which was delivered to store containing another (this time not faulty) pair of the same shoes. Five minutes in the shop and mission accomplished. I can do this!
That’s where I should have quit whilst ahead and made a dash for the car, get home and get number 1 ready for her friend’s dad to pick her up promptly at half past 4. But I figured as the trip had been fairly straight forward and only one person had commented that I “must have my hands full” (like I haven’t heard that one a million times - sigh), that a quick visit to the family fitting room to try on those denim shorts would be fine. En route I picked up the SAME pair of said shoes in a smaller size for number 3 to try on and compare to the size I had already purchased, Easy….

Now I will admit that I am the most indecisive person I know, and in all honesty, it drives me crazy. I can NEVER make a decision on the spot and my flaw was proving ripe once again as I just couldn’t decide if those aged 6 fit well or not. We’ll just nip out and get both pairs in a different size. Cue a family trip halfway across the store to choose more. Number 2 decided she wanted to try on a hideous dress, to which I agreed, to stop the repetitive pleading. Number 4 was getting restless (did I mention I thought it was a good idea to carry her into the store to ‘save time’). At just 4 months old she was fine in my arms up until now, but she’s recently learnt that baby trick where they throw their heads back with zero warning, so a tight ‘full arm’ hug is certainly necessary at this stage. My arms were beginning to ache too. She’ll fill her nappy in a minute, and just show me up even more in proving I am indeed disorganised. Not only did I decide to leave the pushchair in the car, but the changing bag too.
I should have abandoned my attempts to visit the fitting room yet again. It’s now 25 minutes we’ve been in here and the ‘play date’ starts in 30. A quick dash back with now more unnecessary items and a now crying baby. She must be hungry.

The shoes fit fine, well I thought they did. The smaller size looked alright too. So now I’m faced with yet another decision to spend over £25 on shoes that ‘fit’ or ones that ‘have room’ - sigh again.
Number 2’s dress is hideous. There is no way I am buying that (If putting it on my store card is classed as buying?); Number 1 decides the fitting room floor is just perfect for practicing the splits and her 'gymnastic back-bends’ down the wall. Of course it’s because she can see herself upside down in the full length mirror to check out her moves. Number 2 is fighting for the mirror too as she strikes a pose like a pro. Where did she learn that from?. Number 3 is running around now with 2 different sized shoes on. I can not see nor decide which looks better so I ask my number 2 to just pop her head outside and see if she can see a female member of staff. I need another woman’s opinion here. In comes a middle aged lady with a smile and a “can I help you?”. She looks at me with that all too familiar look as she thinks to herself “She’s got her hands full” - thankfully she didn’t say it!. At this point I’m sitting on the floor of the fitting room, breastfeeding number 4, so the smiley lady looks down at me to make conversation. I apologise for my actions (why do I do that so often?) as she proceeds to tell me all about her indecisive teenage daughter. Do I care? No, Do I pretend to? Yes! - I wait patiently to ask what she thinks of the shoes. “Well it depends on how much use you want out of them” - Thanks smiley lady!.
Number 3 is bored and moaning that she is hungry; she also repeats this approximately 100 times. I frantically give her my phone to watch YouTube in an attempt to distract her (she still has 2 different sized shoes on). Number 2 now needs the toilet - my children know full well that the customer facilities are located on the first floor of the store and enjoy riding the ‘moving stairs’ as most young ones do. I’m not falling for that one. On the other hand I don’t know if she’s telling the truth.
We are still no closer to purchasing the right sized shorts or shoes. It’s 4.25 suddenly and I’m still slumped on the floor in my (now not so) white jeans; still breastfeeding the baby who is almost asleep (how am I even going to get up?). The dress is on the floor too. 4 pairs of shorts and 2 pairs of shoes need rehanging. They are now thirsty as well as hungry and I’ve had to snatch my phone away from number 3 to put in that embarrassing call to the parents of my daughter’s friend to explain my ordeal and promise to bring her myself to the location for tea. I’ll just re-order everything again online tonight and come back tomorrow. It’s 4.45 pm. I am still here. On the floor…