this was supposed to be fun

Now that school has started and we're getting back into the school schedule, we will be using most Saturday mornings to catch up on chores. Today Madison cleaned the kids' bathroom; Grant cleaned the living room and vacuumed the stairs; Logan cleaned the half-bath and swept the kitchen floor, and then he, Ammon, and I made bread and cinnamon rolls. We froze the cinnamon rolls and will eat them for breakfast during the week. The bread came out of the oven just in time for lunch, so we ate PB&J on warm homemade, whole wheat bread with homemade strawberry jam. Life felt serene.

It's still a balmy 100 degrees outside in Dallas, TX, so I let them watch a movie in the afternoon and then encouraged the kids to soak each other with water guns in the backyard. Joe and I went out for dinner, and when we got back we thought it would be a fun family treat to pick out some ice cream--at Kroger--because I'm cheap and we can buy two cartons of ice cream (for selection, not because we're going to scarf down a gallon of ice cream in one evening) for a third of the price of taking everyone to an ice cream parlor.

Grant stomped out the door, telling me, "I hate going to the store." 

Logan grabbed a cart and started racing down the aisles, using it as a scooter; I grimaced and called out for him to SLOW DOWN!

We decided that the boys would choose one and the girls (and Ammon) would choose one.  In my mind that meant there would be some give and take until there was an agreement and everyone was content. But in reality:  

Logan ran over Grant's foot with the cart; Grant started crying. Ammon started opening and shutting (slamming) every freezer door. I picked him up (still wet from the water gun war), and he fought to get back down. Madison started whining that Ammon's choice always trumped hers, and Logan complained that he didn't want one with nuts. 

It was talking much too long, we were causing a scene. People could see the crazy! I threatened to take kids to wait in the car, and then I looked at Joe and not-quite-whispered, "This was supposed to be fun."

Please tell me that this is normal. Also, that it gets better, and that someday doing things together as a family will bring smiles and happy laughter instead of people complaining and poking each other and crying. Please? 

It did seem to get better once everyone was actually eating their ice cream (we chose Blue Bell's Krazy Kookie Dough and Rocky Brownie Roadslide--or something like that), and for now, the children are bathed and nestled under their covers, asleep. Silent.