I was that Mom last week. You know who I mean: the one who brings her children into a store and then fails to keep them silent and orderly. The mom who looks obviously frazzled facing down a 2 year old while trying to quite the infant. The one who regularly bribes said toddler with refined sugar and popcorn as she pleads with her to get back into the cart. I evened used the "angry while in public mom voice." (For those of you who have perfect children and therefore have never used this technique it's where you manage to speak through clenched teeth at just above a whisper as you tell your child just how much trouble they're about to be in. I distinctly remember being on the reciving end of this kind of "talk" as a child, probably in the same sitution I use it in these days.)
That was me. I freely admit it. And to the locals here: I'm sorry. I really am.
To the women in the ladies section at Target: I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have let my daughter out of the cart but I really didn't think she'd take off at top speed for the opposite side of the deptartment. I also didn't think she'd hide in the clothing racks and then pop out as you passed giving you a heart attack. (Please send medical bills to: Frazzled mom, aisle 4, Target.)
To those who had to witness the cranky toddler being forced back into the cart: I'm sorry. I was trying to keep her from taking more things off the shelves than I could resonably put back as she continued to move at top speed. I should have known as soon as her bottom touched the seat she would start her "I'm not getting my way" wail. But it still came as a shock to me - and to your ears, too, I'm sure.
To those who listened to the baby crying: Again, sorry. By the time we got to the store it was nap time. It's always nap time when you're 8 months old. My daughter is espically picky: she likes to sleep in her crib. And she cannot sleep in Target, so she cries. I'll work my my pacifier technique for the next trip, I promise.
To the other Mom's who want to offer unsolicited advice: Don't. I do not want to hear that your son will sit in the cart from parking lot to store and back again. I do not want to hear that your daughter will walk primly beside you while you browse the clearence rack endlessly. My daughter can do that too. When she wants to... Which it turns out was not today.