Grocery shopping = awful night

I H-A-T-E grocery shopping.  Loath it.  Cannot stand it and it's SO much harder with 4 kids in tow.  Case in point: last week.  I had all 4 kids and we were out of nearly everything (a common occurrence around here--how do we eat so much!?), so we had to make a trip to the grocery store.  I had my handy-dandy excel spreadsheet with my coupon matchups and my coupons in hand...coupon organizer...purse...childrens' grubby hands.  We have a limited amount of time bc that's how I roll most of the time. 

Here is a quick snapshot of the conversations happening repeatedly between me and the 4 monkies in the 1 hour it took to get everything for 2 weeks and get out the door:
Mom, can we get this?
No.
Why?
Because it's not good for us.
Does it have high fructose corn syrup (hfcs) in it?
Yes.
Stop kicking your brother.
Put that back. 
Why are your shoes off?
Get the cart disinfectant wipe off of your mouth!
Mom, can we get this? 
No. 
Why?  Does it have hfcs in it?
No.
Then why?
Because it costs too much.
Just use your debit card.
It doesn't work like that.
Stop eating the grapes.
Why? 
We haven't paid for them yet. 
But you let us open and eat crakers once.
Sit down in the cart.
Stop singing so loud.
Stay over here. 
Please keep your hands to yourself.  (I'd like to think I said please anyway ;-)

I think you get the picture.

We rushed from the store to the library to drop something off to home.  Calling my DH, I realize that he's forgotten about the 5 o'clock game and is still working 1 hour away--so much for help.  While the 3 oldest all rounded up their gear for a baseball game for the oldest followed by soccer practice for the middle two I put away the cold stuff, packed the cooler with dinner and we headed for the pony field. Perfect.  10 minutes to get there-no problem. 

Shoot.  The baseball bag is in the back of Daddy's truck--can't you play without your glove, hat, bat, helmet and cup? 

So, I headed the wrong direction to the shop to get the baseball bag out of the truck.  What's that light on the dash?   As I'm getting ready to turn into the parking lot at the field, I lose all acceleration and coast in on fumes.  Now, we're 15 minutes late (as the game is starting) and thus 15 minutes late for my shift in the concession stand.  Calling the DH again, I tell him to arrive asap with gas tank in hand. (it is his fault I ran out of gas, right? ;-)

I drop the kids and their dinner with the in-laws who have been waiting for us to arrive (thank God they were there!!) and head for the concession stand.  Phew, everyone's happy nice and forgiving that I'm late.

Weird akwardness for the next 2 hours as I work with strangers whose names I don't know to fill the unhealthy desires of all the pony leaguers and their fans.  Nothing looked good to me in there...and I'm pregnant and I haven't eaten dinner...and usually everything looks/smells good to me. 

DH has already left with all 4 kids to head to soccer practice.  A moment of peace.  A beautiful night. 

I stopped to chat with a friend for a minute that turned into 30.  I got into the car to find my cell phone sitting on the seat.  Whoops, forgot to take it with me.  And a it has a dozen missed calls/ alerts (it's a Nextel) and messages. 

Uh-oh.  The 2yo has had an accident (#2) at the park and Daddy's frantic.  Fortunately, he has already remedied the situation with paper towels and windex (always has those in his truck to keep those windows clean), threw away the undies and sent the oldest back to the house for clean clothes (only time he's been allowed to go that far without an adult!). 

I am so thankful my car starts (thanks to DH) and I head home to bathe the kids and pop them into bed.  (I'm still reaping the "benefits" of DH having to deal with that mess on his own--"You're turn.  Remember the park?")  Now, I get to finally put away the rest of the groceries.  And dang-it, why didn't I get any chocolate?