Tuesday, July 24, 2012

My Target Tales: Starbucks Disaster

So there we were. All three of my children in the Target check out line and it was only 9:30am. Feeling particularly good about having the kids dressed, fed, and done with my shopping, I wanted to treat myself to a Starbucks coffee. After all, they were all strapped in "the train" (our name for the three-seater cart).

We stroll over to the Starbucks located near the exit of Target. To put things in perspective of how proud I was feeling, I asked for a grande blonde, instead of my usual tall one. They replied they were out of coffee and asked if I could wait an extra five minutes for a fresh pot.

Of course, I can! What's another five minutes to bask in the glory of being the mom of the morning!?

I snapped this picture.

Then it happened.

In the midst of trying to edit my picture in Instagram, I hear my inquisitve Elizabeth ask, "Excuse me, are you a boy or a girl?" I was a little dazed, trying to wrap my head around the fact that this was actually happening, all while trying to inconspicuously form my answer. And trying to forget how hot it was in there. When Hannah Kate interrupted my thoughts by actually answering her sister's repeated question. "Ger!" Then changing her mind: "No, boy! It's a boy. No, gerl! Gerl. Boy!" 

Yep, I think it's time to get some cream and sugar.

And this is how the mother of the morning award was ripped from my hands. 

Next time, it's straight to the car. This was my gentle reminder of why they make drive-thrus. 

You can read my other Target Tale here

Friday, July 13, 2012

My Target Tales: Daddy's House

Towards the end of Elizabeth's preschool year, I would drop Elizabeth off at preschool and take Hannah and Micah by Desiring God to see Jonathan at work. After a few times of doing it, Hannah would ask if we could go see Daddy at "daddy's house." It was all innocent until Mother's Day 2012.

We had spent the morning out at a park and eating at my favorite restaurant, Texas Roadhose. Later that day, Jon was trying to study for his Hebrew final. I needed to run to Target and decided to take Hannah with me. 

There were moms there with the entire family and some moms there who were grocery shopping in quiet bliss by themselves. And there was me walking hand in hand with my sweet girl into Target. We reached the carts. I broke our cart away from the others. And picked my sweet girl up to ride in the back of the cart. 

Gravity is a strange thing. Somewhere between the ground and being placed in the back of the cart, my precious, sweet little girl flung herself into a terrible-two hysteria. 

Which would have been fine if it would have only been crying. But no. It involved her crying AND screaming at the top of her lungs, "I WANNNNAAA GO TO MY DADDDYYY'S HOUSEEE," over and over again. And it didn't end after a few minutes. It lasted my entire trip to Target.

I was pretty mortified, but one thing that has been a sweet gift in motherhood has been a sense of humor. I came home frazzled but laughing at how ridiculous that scene must of looked as I replayed it to Jonathan. 

That next morning, Hannah asked to go to Daddy's house again, when Elizabeth looked at her in all seriousness and asked, "What does your Daddy's house look like?" Stop. It!

Yep, and it was there in that moment I gained some perspective: that Target run could have been a whole lot worse.