Hairy balls.

Have you ever been to Target with a two year old? And a 5 month old? And me? Because it seems to be a disastrous combination thus far. Here's how it plays out:

Set house alarm and head out to garage. Do not open garage door, because Piglet will run away. Instead, he rushes to toolbox to get screwdriver with which to "fix" daddy's lawnmower. Let him while strapping in Pigpen to carseat. Pigpen has learned to arch back and buck like a bronco when put into carseat, so this takes a moment.

Return to Piglet. He is now under lawnmower, pulling broom and dustpan from behind it. "Piglet sweep floor!"Drag him out, wrestle him into jacket while he cries and does noodle legs in his tantrum over the broom. Heft him into car, bumping his head on the way. Wailing ensues. "Mommy kiss it! Mommy kiss it!" Kiss it.

Peel off own jacket due to sweating. Drive to Target, maintaining energetic conversation about tractors, school buses and garbage trucks. At each turn, Piglet yells, "Piglet wants go other way!" At red lights he yells, "Goooooo!" The sun is in Pigpen's face. He cries. Notice we are not yet at Target.

Find parking place as close to cart return as possible. Bring cart to car. Wrench cart cover thinger onto cart, weaving seat belt straps through fabric. Am now cold from earlier sweating. Hoist Piglet into cart. He refuses to put feet in holes. Try not to smack Piglet so I don't look like white trash woman smacking kid in parking lot. Shove feet in holes and squeeze the seat belt around fat toddler belly with slack all the way let out. (These are never large enough, but Piglet stands in carts and can climb out of back) Tell him to suck it in. He instead blows into my face and laughs hysterically.

Wheel Piglet over to Pigpen's side and park cart while I slip into my Baby Bjorn. Just as I'm halfway strapped in, Piglet shoves off of car and sends cart rolling into parking lot. Grab him and have serious in face talk about what happens if a car hits him. There are a lot of shots and bandaids in the warning. Child acts brain damaged.

Get Pigpen securely fastened in Bjorn and dare old lady walking by to say anything about him not wearing a hat. Remember purse and go back to car. Enter Target at last. There were a good many people in there and anytime the cart slowed behind someone, Piglet would call out either, "Go now!" or "Move!" Humiliating. We did okay until I picked up a pack of Elmo underwear for Piglet. We are in the talking-about-it stage of potty training right now. He wanted to tell all of the people that we passed about his Elmo unkies. To distract him, I let him pick out a toy with the $5 his grandparents sent him for Thanksgiving. (Pigpen got spoons)

Have you ever tried explaining the concept of $5 to a two year old who can only count to three and thinks you're supposed to hit a ball or jump in the air on three? Hopeless. We wound up with one of those rubbery balls with all the hairy things sticking out of it. It's called a hair ball. This would be fine for the normal child. Piglet, though, likes to give a running commentary of his life to the general public. Have you ever walked through Target with a two year old yelling, "Piglet has hairy ball!" from your cart? HAVE YOU?? People were openly laughing.

I hustled out of there and out to the car where I reversed the procedure to get them in the car again. Upon lifting Pigpen from the Bjorn, my bra came unhooked. That's right, just came unhooked. If the loosey goosey feeling didn't clue me in, the nursing pads falling to the ground in the parking lot surely did. Then, if you've been keeping up with this blog, you know what happened next....my milk let down. And here it came. Right there in the parking lot.

So, there you have it. A trip to Target with little people. Those of you without kids, please enjoy your next trip alone to Target in my honor.