Is That Your Kid or Mine?

As my eyes were leisurely sifting through birthday cards in the silent aisles of Target at 8:30 p.m. the other night, feeling guilty and strange that I was at the store on my own, I saw heard (before I even caught a glimpse of) a teeny little Tinkerbell traveling in her mama's cart.

She was making the most gallant effort at singing the best letter 'eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee'  that her pint-sized-self could attempt. It was shrill and pitchy and made me chuckle. My thought bubble said, 'Awh, cute kid.'

And then I shocked myself mid-smirk-and-head-tilt because I realized that 99.9% of the time, I am the one sweating and shushing and end up gently manhandling the Alabama alligators that my sweet and lovely boys morph into when I take them to Target. Is it the air that is pumped through the ventilation system? Are they contact-buzzing on Starbucks? Please tell me there is an answer.

For me, usually one of them is screaming 'e' because it's fun and annoying. And I start to lose my cool and say something like 'i' am 'so-ooooo' going to take away (fill in the blank) from 'u' and sometimes they respond, but 'y'?

I contemplated this while giving the mom one of those looks that I often get when my boys are mid-Britney Spears breakdown in the Skylanders aisle.

The look that says, 'IT'S OK. SHE'S CUTE AND YOU LOVE HER AND MY KIDS PULL THIS CRAP ALL THE TIME. AND IT'S ANNOYING AND YOU THINK THAT I AM JUDGING YOU, BUT I AM NOT, I AM JUST EMPATHIZING AND SORT OF REVELING IN THE FACT THAT I AM SANS-CHILDREN AT TARGET RIGHT NOW AND, WELL. I GET IT.'

When my guys go berserk in Match Box corner or Nerf kingdom, I do my very best to let the moment pass and meditate right there in the toy section, but really, nothing works and the monster mommy switch flips automatically. My sweet boys are not shoppers. They want to get in, bee line to the sports section and Wii games. Anything necessary for mommy to stop and look at in between is well, just pure, horrible and criminal agony that I force upon them. 'Not pillows again, mom - please, please don't make us do it.'
It is at that moment, that I recall this famous post from the hysterical, experienced and super hero writers behind the genious blog, Rants from Mommyland.

'Nuff said. Meaning that on my next attempt at taking aforementioned small humans to Target, I shall ask for back up. Calling all friends: let's tag-team it and take turns. We can still enjoy our Target time. I will even provide the chocolate milk and ridiculously-tiny Legos that clog up my vacuum. You provide the juice boxes and princess dolls and tiaras. I will so wear them. I don't expect you to play with the tiny Legos, but if you compliment the boys apt for putting them together, that is good enough. Ooooh, I think we have a solid strategic PLAN, here friends!

Back to mom a few aisles over with the singing angel in her Target buggy. Please know I was not mocking. I was merely enjoying a moment that told me - you are not alone.

Try-try-again next time. Trust me, you'll do it. They keep sending coupons and hanging new signs from the rafters and having mark-downs on cool stuff and asking designers to sell their fun clothes and accessories there for reasonable prices and making alluring commercials that make us all feel like stylish and savvy shoppers! What? Target doesn't do all of that for you? Well, there's obviously something wrong with you, then. Kidding. Kidding. (Sort of).

As for a more permanent solution: combination Starbuck's & Daycare stations in Target. And we pay at the same time. Out comes your SB card balance and right below it is the magical code to check your kid in for 1.5 hours while you shop/wander/do a yoga pose right there in the picture frame aisle.

I think we are on to something here, folks. Send me your ideas and I'll draft the petition to Target.