a trip to target

okay, at the risk of sounding like one of those moms who is totally overwhelmed and who’s kids are completely out of control, i will tell you about our trip to target yesterday.

first let me say, i have four.  four energetic, lively, sometimes opinionated, sometimes stubborn, bright, always entertaining little ones and i am mostly organized and on the ball and capable of taking care of them and keeping them under control, most of the time, yesterday did not happen to be most of the time.  i did manage to get them all out of the house with clothes and shoes on and into their car seats in under 30 minutes which was good.  so off we went, down the highway, me on the phone, music on, no screaming or fighting or crying.  "this might be an okay trip to the store" i thought.  wrong. 

we got to target.  i unloaded the kiddies into a cart and off we went to get icee’s.   and then i realized i had forgotten my wallet.  great, oh well, let’s go, i must have left it in the van.  wrong.  i left it at home.  okay,  fine, everybody back in the van, sorry kids, we’ll come right  back.  so now i’m driving on the service road, getting ready to get on the highway and grace stands up in her car seat.  i thought she was strapped in.  wrong.  now gabe and emma are screaming "mommy, get gracie, get gracie, it’s dangerous, it’s dangerous!!"  so i quickly, carefully pull over at a gas station to put her in her seat and she has a fit complete with back arching and kicking and screaming.  about 10 minutes later we are both sweaty and frustrated and she is strapped in.  so off we go, everybody is in right?  wrong.  emma apparently decided to go check out the gas station while i was fussing with grace.  she is halfway across the parking lot, her hair bouncing away in the distance.  luckily she turns around and catches a glimpse of the horror in my eyes and decides to come back to the van before i can get any words out of my mouth.  she gets a little talking to about sneaking off while mommie’s not looking and walking across parking lots and into gas stations, a talk i would never have guessed that i needed to have with my oh so shy three year old.  so now, now we are all in and ready to go back to our house and get my wallet.  we do, and we make it back to target with a minimal amount of screaming and crying and fighting.  and again we unload into a cart and head for the icee’s.  the shopping is not to bad.  they are mostly tame, except when they aren’t.  (and i will just take this time to say, when you see a mom with four small kids, two chasing each other through the aisles and getting into trouble, a toddler on her hip covered in blue icee, and one standing in the shopping cart whining about princess fruit snacks, it is not helpful to stare, nor is it helpful to make faces, it is not even helpful to make comments about  "how that happens" or  question her about "how many more of those"  she is planning on having.)   so we are about halfway done with our grocery shopping and we’ve only made two trips to the bathroom, not bad.  now we are on a search for hot dog buns.  they do not have any and this is very distressing for gabe.  griffen suggests we use burger buns, but that will not do.  gabe is now frantically running from aisle to aisle looking for anything resembling hot dog buns and i am standing at the end of an aisle trying to get him to calm down and come back.  finally he concedes that we can use bread if we fold it.  fine, perfect.   but then something is not fine or perfect,  something is dripping on my toes.  what could that be?  the icee’s are long gone and there are no other liquids to be spilled… ?  oh, grace.   grace somehow tinkled all over me.  i assumed the diaper she was wearing would serve as some barrier between me and the result of her gulping down emma’s icee.  wrong.  it was everywhere.  my shirt and shorts and toes were wet, and there was a little baby sized puddle on the floor.  nice.  so we shuffled out of there and paid for all of our stuff, or so i thought.  wrong.  somehow in the mix of me getting peed on and trying to get my four little rugrats out of there, we accidentally stole some baby flip-flops.  oh, well, next time i’m here i’ll bring the tag and pay for them.  i am not going back in there now.  and then griff, bless his heart, in trying to help load the stuff in the van while i put a new diaper on grace, he simultaneously put a hole in the dog food bag and the milk.  not nice.  really not nice.   

i have to say, the whole time though, through all of this, i remained calm, placid even, cool as a cucumber, i smiled and laughed.  and that is the key i think, you can’t let them know they’re getting to you.  because then they win.  am i right?  and really, what good would one more of us having a fit have helped?  really.  it was an adventure, we made it though.  i made it with no screaming or crying or fighting.   

and i think the lesson i learned is-  target does not really have very good theft prevention.Flips

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2 Comments to “a trip to target”

  1. hilarious, awesome, and so a mom thing.

  2. hilarious, awesome, and so a mom thing.

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