Transformers Club

Nothing like being in my favorite place, Target, and realizing that I'm leaking like a busted pipe. I got Jake out of his car seat in the buggy to hold and maybe hide the damage, but it was too late. Oh well. I checked out with what was in my cart (nothing of which I went in for, mind you) and headed to the car. Where I realized 3 things.

1. Jake had woken up early because he had done some serious. serious work in those cute britches of his. He was also hungry.
2. Cham must've had a diaper wedgie. Her pants were soaked.
3. I miss my nieces and nephews.

I first tackled the feeding. Which is always awkward in the front seat in a busy parking lot in the middle of the 92 degree afternoon. But I've done it enough, so that was that. After that is when I realized I had some work on my hands with this diaper- and soon after I realized that I didn't have any wipes in the diaper bag. You might think that it would be simple. To go back into Target and get some. Well. Remember that I have wet myself from the front. of my shirt. And I wasn't putting that diaper back on him. Plus, I had already gotten Cham into the driver's seat pretending to drive us around town shopping... which is her favorite thing to do in the world and also a rare treat. So that would've been a separate task in itself, prying her out of that seat and back into the dreaded buggy. So I scoured the van. Every cubby, and finally found some semi-dried up nose wipes. It would have to do. And it did. By the time this event was over Chamblee had worked her way to the back seat where I offered to change her diaper. This is when I realized that her pants were soaked. Like, not wet. soaked. I laid her down on the back row, got her outta those things & realized I had only packed dipes for Jake. Luckily, he's thick. She fits in his just fine in a quick fix. So. Now I am sitting in the back row just taking in the hard blowing AC and letting the kids chill out before I strap them in and head home to pump for the umpteenth time today, and I see it. A little piece of paper that must've been left behind from the last week of my sister and her sweet family visiting. I unwrapped it and found this:

It made me smile. It made that sweaty moment of chaos in my little blue van seem like nothin'. I miss them so much already. 

Random. You know what's as bad- almost worse- than trying on bathing suits after you've had two kids? Trying on shorts. I mean, at least bathing suits you I KNOW it's going to be depressing. Shorts? I was miserably surprised. For one, and most importantly, my legs are a hot mess. For two, There's no good short. They either look like panties or straight up mom jeans. You know, the Florida Gator wearin' kind. And nobody wants that. And one more, why is Target marketing these panty-like shorts to 8 year olds? Are people really buying these short shorts for their little girls?

It makes me cringe. I guess I never noticed it before I had a little girl. Or maybe it's just me becoming more and more aware of how everyone is trying to make little girls grow up too soon. Or what else. Something. I wouldn't wear those short shorts if I was my age. And I had great legs. What's the point? I think we all know the point, deep down, which is why it makes me sad. 'Nother blog, another time.

Anyway. Today is K's long day gone... and I am blessed to have both kids clean, fed and asleep in bed by now. 8:00. What am I going to do? Laundry, of course. And dishes. A little tidying and maybe a big glass of red, red wine and a little bit of Miss Emily Maynard to cap it off. And pumping. Of course. 


...perhaps I'll just go on to bed instead. 


Until Next Time, 
The Guff