It’s about half an hour before the end of the workday. My brain is fried, my to-do list is laughing at me, and I’m just trying to wrap things up when, ding!, the first text rolls in.
Then another. And another.
“What’s for dinner?”
“Can we get Taco Bell?”
“We have nothing to eat!”
“When are you coming home?”
Sound familiar?
I don’t know if this is a universal mom thing or if dads get these too, but I swear my kids have a sixth sense for when I’m mentally clocking out. Without fail, right around that last stretch of my workday, they suddenly remember their stomachs exist and that food (apparently) can’t be found anywhere in our fully stocked kitchen.
Meanwhile, I’m sitting there thinking, What was on the meal plan again?
Did I thaw the chicken?
Do we have propane for the grill?
Wait, weren’t there leftovers in the fridge?
So many questions. So little time.
By the time I walk through the door, I’m greeted by a chorus of hangry teenagers demanding answers about what’s for dinner now, as though I’ve been hiding the answer in a secret vault somewhere. Within minutes, we’ve gone from “Hi Mom!” to “Who ate my leftover sandwich?” to “He did it! I was saving that!”, followed by dramatic calls for justice that could rival a courtroom drama.
And honestly, it’s funny (once I’ve had a snack).
But somewhere between juggling work, dinner, and teen emotions, I realized I needed a system to keep both my sanity and their stomachs in check. So every few months, I save up and do something magical: The Big Costco Run.
Yep, the full-blown, cart-filling, snack-hoarding, freezer-stuffing Costco trip, with all three kids in tow.
They think it’s for them. But let’s be real, it’s for me.
Because when that freezer is full, I don’t get those frantic “What’s for dinner?” texts for at least a week and a half, two weeks if I’m lucky. For a brief, glorious window of time, I’m not the keeper of dinner destiny. There’s pizza, chicken, mac and cheese, frozen fruit, and enough snacks to feed a small army. Everyone’s happy. Including me.
And here’s the real kicker, I actually enjoy it.
Yep, I said it: I enjoy Costco with my teens.
Not because it’s relaxing (spoiler: it’s not), but because these moments are fleeting. I know it won’t be long before it’s just me and my youngest on these trips, and while I’ll treasure that too, there’s something truly special about piling into the car with all of them, plus my oldest’s boyfriend, who’s basically part of the family now, and heading out together.
My middle one drives us, music blaring, windows down, and for a little while, I’m not just “Mom.” I’m part of the chaos, the laughter, the ridiculous inside jokes, and the hilarious group chat that starts before we even leave the house. There’s teasing, eye-rolling, and someone inevitably trying to sneak a 48-pack of ramen into the cart.
And yet, I love every second of it.
Because one day, they won’t all live under my roof. One day, my phone won’t buzz with “What’s for dinner?” but with “Hey Mom, how do you make that chicken recipe again?” or “Can we come over this weekend?”
And that thought? It hits me right in the heart.
There’s a certain magic in these ordinary moments, the goofiness in the aisles, the way they debate which snacks are “must-haves,” the chaos of packing everything into the car. It’s the kind of everyday joy that sneaks up on you, the kind that makes you realize how lucky you are just to be here.
Because the real treasure in life isn’t stuff, it’s people.
And when those people are the ones you’ve raised, watching them grow into exactly who they’re meant to be, personalities, quirks, and all, it’s the most humbling, hilarious, beautiful honor there is.
So yes, Costco checked a lot off our list today. We’ve got enough frozen food to survive a minor apocalypse. But more importantly, it gave me something far better than a stocked freezer, it gave me memories.
As we loaded up the car (strategically, “disscussing” with all the random packing and boxes), I looked at my crew and thought, Man, they are fun.
Never in a million years would I have guessed that a Friday night Costco run could fill my heart this much. But it did. And it reminded me that sometimes, the best family moments aren’t the big vacations or the picture-perfect events, they’re the messy, everyday adventures where everyone’s together, laughing, and being exactly who they are.
Oh, and one more thing, each of my kids is now developing their own culinary interests. One’s into baking, one loves grilling, and one can whip up pasta like a pro. Which means my new parenting motto is: “If you buy it, they will cook it.”
So parents, tell me, where are you at with your kiddos? Is this just a mom thing? Or do dads get the same “What’s for dinner?” texts too? Either way, if you ever need to quiet the dinner chaos, grab your crew and hit Costco. You might just come home with more than groceries, you might come home with a full heart. ❤️
Mom on the go in Holy Toledo 