After a trip to have lunch with Cole at work, I decided to push myself and my sweet baby just a little bit farther and make a trip to Trader Joe's. Once I pulled in the parking lot, I realized he had fallen asleep. So I thought, what the heck, I'll take a nap too. So we napped. And then we nursed. And then we loaded up and headed in for supplies.
As I picked up the items on my mental list, I thought about Mother's Day. And I thought about Trader Joe's. And I thought about how Trader Joe's has helped me out in the mothering department.
I know that just about every corner of the internet sings praises to Trader Joe's: their business plan, their affordable groceries, the quality, the cookie butter.... But what I love is that they make me feel like a human being.
You see, there is this other grocery store in Houston called Central Market. And it's great too! Free sushi samples every time you go! Amazing bulk section! So posh, so diverse, so fun to meander through. But anytime I go with my baby... I am suddenly in everyones way. Yeah, I have to get the big bulky cart to strap my baby into. I can't get the tiny one with no seat made for people who only buy groceries for their next meal. I know that that cart takes up a lot of the aisle. I get it. But stop glaring at me! I'm just trying to buy unsweetened coconut flakes! Who cares if my grocery store Zamboni's driver is screeching and clawing at my chest (because he's figured out that he's at the perfect level to nurse in those carts. oy vey.)
But... Trader Joe's.
Sweet Trader Joe's (particularly the one on Shephard)
You like babies. You support moms. Your employees always stop to have a conversation with my baby bald eagle. You tell me he's sweet/serious/adorable/just perfect and you offer him blueberries and quinoa oatmeal. He loves it.
You ask me if there is anything I need, anything you can help me with. If I ask where something is - you tell me to wait there, you get it and you bring it back to me. You smile, always. You're perpetually happy to be working at Trader Joe's. And if it's a bad day and you're not particularly happy to be working at Trader Joe's, you pretend to be. And I think that's what employees should do.
Finally, you have the sweetest manager. If he spots me, he always insists on carrying my groceries out and loading them in the trunk, while saying "Don't worry, you just take care of that baby."
As I picked up the items on my mental list, I thought about Mother's Day. And I thought about Trader Joe's. And I thought about how Trader Joe's has helped me out in the mothering department.
I know that just about every corner of the internet sings praises to Trader Joe's: their business plan, their affordable groceries, the quality, the cookie butter.... But what I love is that they make me feel like a human being.
You see, there is this other grocery store in Houston called Central Market. And it's great too! Free sushi samples every time you go! Amazing bulk section! So posh, so diverse, so fun to meander through. But anytime I go with my baby... I am suddenly in everyones way. Yeah, I have to get the big bulky cart to strap my baby into. I can't get the tiny one with no seat made for people who only buy groceries for their next meal. I know that that cart takes up a lot of the aisle. I get it. But stop glaring at me! I'm just trying to buy unsweetened coconut flakes! Who cares if my grocery store Zamboni's driver is screeching and clawing at my chest (because he's figured out that he's at the perfect level to nurse in those carts. oy vey.)
But... Trader Joe's.
Sweet Trader Joe's (particularly the one on Shephard)
You like babies. You support moms. Your employees always stop to have a conversation with my baby bald eagle. You tell me he's sweet/serious/adorable/just perfect and you offer him blueberries and quinoa oatmeal. He loves it.
You ask me if there is anything I need, anything you can help me with. If I ask where something is - you tell me to wait there, you get it and you bring it back to me. You smile, always. You're perpetually happy to be working at Trader Joe's. And if it's a bad day and you're not particularly happy to be working at Trader Joe's, you pretend to be. And I think that's what employees should do.
Finally, you have the sweetest manager. If he spots me, he always insists on carrying my groceries out and loading them in the trunk, while saying "Don't worry, you just take care of that baby."
It's just nice, you know. To live in a world where your husband's coworkers continually ask when his wife is going back to work - or have someone question why you even bothered getting a college degree - to go somewhere and be treated like you're special, and you matter, and this tiny human you've created and devoted every ounce of your energy to is worth fawning over.
Thanks, Trader Joe's.
You can have all my money.
Thanks, Trader Joe's.
You can have all my money.