Ah Target. One of my favorite places in the world. Brimming with aisles of crap I just have to have and on this particular day also jam packed with people. It was Saturday afternoon and freezing cold outside. I strapped Parker to the front of me in the Baby Bjorn and kept Finley asleep in the car seat in the cart. All was going well- I had made it through knick-knacks and housewares without a hitch and was about a third of the way through with the groceries when I felt something rather warm on my belly. I stuck my hand between myself and the baby carrier to affirm what I already knew- Parker's diaper had leaked and we were both growing wetter by the second. I stood there for a second staring into my full cart and took mental note of how far away the bathrooms were. I was in the back right corner of the mega store. The bathrooms were in the front left. Hmm. How would I carry Parker away from my body while pushing this cart? Game day decision- I wouldn't.

As not to gross out too many people I kicked our cart out of dairy and into the paper towel/toilet paper isle and began stripping my 15 pound boy- holding him with one hand while grabbing wipes and a diaper with the other. Then I begin to sweat. No, literally sweat. Droplets were forming on my forehead and rolling down my nose. Here I am in the middle of a packed aisle with a huge wet spot on my sweater, dripping sweat, and holding a now screaming naked baby. People must have thought I was out of my mind. I know for a fact the man that reached around us to get to his TP was thinking that. 'Why the hell is this woman changing her kid in the middle of Target? They have bathrooms for this sort of thing...' At this point I was starting to doubt my decision. Somehow I successfully managed to get a diaper on my writhing baby without setting him down on anything. Now about what to dress him in. Did I mention it's about 35 degrees outside?! So I start digging through the diaper bag (Mommy 101- always pack an extra set of clothing)...I guess the last time I had updated the bag was when Parker was 10 pounds and it was summertime. The only thing I have is a newborn onesie. Great. My kid looks like a little sausage with ice cold blue appendages. After taking off my sweater, wiping my now damp hairline, and managing to shove Parker back into the carrier we continued our grocery shopping.

Do you know that no one (and there were A TON of people around) ever once stopped to ask if they could help me?! I guess I really can't blame them. If I saw a poopy kid in the middle of the cream cheese section I might be slightly grossed out as well...