I need a stiff drink, stat!

I've mentioned before that I love going to Target, right? Well today, not so much. I ventured there this morning to get a few groceries and cleaning supplies, and left feeling totally defeated. Like, an I-wanted-to abandon-my-basket-and-find-some-place-quiet-to-tuck-my-head-between-my-knees-and-rock-back-and-forth kind of defeated.

Let me preface this by saying I'm not complaining at all. I am actually at a point where I am really enjoying having kids so close in age, and even though I didn't plan it, I absolutely wouldn't want it any other way. So obviously rough days just go with the territory. I want to document my experience this morning so that one day I will look back at this time in my life and get a good laugh in. Sure, today it was more of a sad, weary cry, but eventually I know I will miss my days filled with small, demanding children.

So. Harper's disposition improved briefly a couple of weeks ago and she even seemed happy for the first time in her short life, but it only lasted for about a week and since then she has regressed to being Mad Baby again. The colic is not giving up the fight easily. We've fallen into a routine, though. As sad as it is, after a while you just kind of get used to the crying and screaming. I think it's a defense mechanism so that we are able to maintain our last shred of sanity. :) She has good days and bad days, and today has been one of her bad days.

And I'm an idiot and thought it would be a good idea to pack her and her brother up and go to Target. I was hoping she would fall asleep in the car and sleep peacefully through our shopping trip. Ha ha ha! There I was, halfway through my list, bouncing my screaming infant on my shoulder while Harrison was putting on his best performance with his pretend cry (he's started doing this sometimes when Harper is crying. I guess either for attention or he likes to mock her). I had the giant cart they have at Target with the regular basket and the seat attachment on the front. I was trying to console Harper while pushing the monstrous cart-bus with one hand. I could just feel the stares of judgment burning into me and as I tried to squeeze by the oncoming cart, Harrison reached out and knocked about 50 things off the shelf (Thank God none of it was breakable!!!). I was a flustered mess and was at the point where I didn't know what to do. Do I just grin and bear it and finish getting the last few things? Do I abandon the basket and run? Do I bitch-slap the people who are sending shameful looks my direction like I'm the worst mom in the world? I opted to grin and bear it. I put Harper back in her car seat and kicked it into dodge. I grabbed the last few things on my list while Harrison cried and pointed at all the food on the shelves because he didn't understand why he couldn't eat it right then. I ignored the looks from everybody and headed for the check out where, in route, a lady actually stopped and asked me if my crying baby was hungry. Um, no. I am competent enough to not let my baby starve, but thanks for your concern. Jeez. It probably didn't help that Harrison looks like the victim of child abuse. He met the pavement face first when he decided to dive off the front porch stairs at my MIL's house earlier this week. And then last night he slipped and bit through his lip, which is swollen and scabbed over today. We were a sight, for sure. And a sound. A very, very loud sound.

The funny thing is, I used to be one of those people who scoffed when I saw parents with screaming babies. God sure has a sense of humor, doesn't he???? I think next time I see a sad mom with her tattered white flag raised, I'm going to run up to her and give her a big hug!

Here they are this afternoon after naps. Harrison's such a sweet brother most of the time and either gives her kisses to make her feel better (I guess he thinks she has owies) or else he usually carries on without noticing. Or sometimes, like I mentioned earlier, he fake cries or tells her "Baby, SHHH!" It's pretty adorable.