Yes, I can hear her. I just don't care.

I'll post more pics after Easter.

Today, I had a migraine. What started off as a semi crappy 3 on the migraine scale, quickly surpassed my expectations of it leaving and rounded into a full blown several doses of medication migraine. It wasn't very pretty at our house.

Since I was going to go grocery shopping on Tuesday or Wednesday and had yet to do so, the original game plan was that I would get my coupons together and head out this afternoon. Per the above awesomeness, it just didn't happen. Despite Serena's extreme girth, I felt guilty that she was out of food, so I headed to Target to get the essentials until tomorrow.

Chris had plans tonight, so that meant I had to drag Clare with me. She eyed up the competition in the car (me) and realized this would be a good trip.

I had a short list and a naive hope that we would be in and out in 10 minutes. I pulled up next to cart return, pulled out my spray Lysol (too lazy to wipe down the handles) and sprayed disinfectant in the general direction of the cart. As soon as I pulled Clare out of her car seat, I knew this wasn't going to go well. If I was smarter, I would have put her right back in the car and given Serena a dinner of milk bones. Or left overs. Or green beans.

Onward and Upward, we went into Target. Clare began playing musical cart right away, which is never a good sign. Musical cart is the game where she wants to be in the front, facing me and then suddenly launches herself into the back of the cart, where she screams bloody murder if you try to help her get back there without allowing her to dive head first onto the floor. She then sits in the back of the cart, laying flat on her belly and tries to stick her tongue in between the holes in the cart. I, finding this to be disgusting, no matter how much Lysol I used, then look like a total A-hole in trying to convince my child to sit up and not lick the cart as we wheel around Target.

Tonight, I didn't have it in me. I just decided to risk running into someone I knew and kept moving. After a fight to the death in the food section, where Clare no longer wanted to touch the cart (as in not one finger can touch the cart, so I have to hold her, push the cart one handed and try not running into others) I was already over this trip. She really wanted down to run around and cause mass destruction, so while I'm pushing the cart, she's wiggling and slapping me to get down.

The last stop on our way out the door was for laundry detergent. I saw our brand on the end cap with a "bonus 10 extra loads" on the front. I pulled into the aisle and couldn't find the price comparison to find out if it was really cheaper per a unit and was to cranky to just throw it in the cart and leave.

Clare, took this opportunity to throw herself on the ground and SCREAM at the very TOP of her LUNGS. She screamed and cried and hit me and tried to pull away. I blocked the busy end of the aisle with my cart and used her pant leg to my advantage, by stepping on it with my shoe (again, she was all the way laid out on the ground) to hold her in place so I could use my cell calculator to do the math. She screamed louder and tried to pull my foot off her pants while people stopped by to see what in the heck was happening in the cleaning aisle and I acted as if I had no idea a small troll was attempting to hit and bite me while screeching and crying louder than fight at Ann's Tavern.

After figuring out the better deal (my gut was right=never trust an end-cap) I loaded her into the cart of 1,000 tortures and continued to let her scream at the top of her lungs while I calmly walked towards the check out like I was totally deaf. Multiple customers stopped to stare. The cashier looked horrified and is probably currently checking her birth control as I type. Clare screamed all the way through the parking lot too. The nice Mom with normal children looked horrified as she loaded Little Miss Giovanna GoodManners and her brother, Little Mr. Best Behaved Bruno into the car.

So, if you saw us tonight at Target: Yes, I can hear her. I just don't care. Even a little.