Going to the store.

It's 4:23am, I've been up for about an hour feeding my 5 week old daughter Maggie...from a bottle! Seriously should it take an hour for a bottle feed?? I decided today to try a different bottle, one that would flow a little faster but my wise sister-in law says to me, "just buy faster flow nipples." So here I am at 4:28am looking at Amazon.com for faster flow bottle nipples. My, how different life is now! You don't really think about how you won't be able to hop in the car and run to the store and run in a grab a gallon of milk. Now you have to encourage your two year old to get his shoes on (by encourage I mean yelling 'stop telling me no and get your shoes on!') now get the 5 week old into the infant seat without breaking her little arms as you pull them through the harness. Oh, make sure you grab the diaper bag incase someone has a blowout. Now "let's go!" oh wait, we need to look at the "punkims" on the front porch and we may need to take the small one along to the store. Next we look at the ants on the sidewalk. Then instead of getting into the car seat the toddler has a meltdown because he wants to DRIVE! So at this point you may be wondering "why don't you carry him out of the house and put him in the car?" oh, I would but he weighs 35lbs and I have an infant carrier in one hand. Remember this is all for a gallon of milk, I haven't even gotten to the store yet. So once everyone is in the car and now crying, off we go 3 miles to the store. Getting everyone out is no trouble because we are somewhere new and exciting. Once in the store, the 2 year old wants that stupid customer in training cart, let the battle begin. If I say no, not this time he will cause a scene, no big deal, I don't really care, he's 2 he shouldn't get his way all the time, but I only need a gallon of milk!!! it's easier to let him push it. Here we are mom, toddler, baby in the infant seat on my arm, pushing the stupid small cart and trying not to run into anyone with the stupid small cart. Grab the milk go to the check out and let the "I dont want to leave!" meltdown begin. After saying in my most stern, I'm trying not to kill you voice, "come here now we are leaving." I finially get mister terrible twos back in the car and ready to go home, at this point the baby is crying and since she's five weeks old, it is that level 10, I need something now cry. So we cruise home, me wishing I had gotten a bottle of wine and two kids screaming and crying. All this for one gallon of milk. :)