Mallrats

We went shopping today.

Our trip to the mall was so that we could get Abby's hair cut at one of this ridiculous places where they have the cars to sit in and the TVs for the kids to watch as they get their hair did. My mom had won some gift certificates in an auction and I felt like I should use them, so off we went to Snippets. This place was seriously one of the worst places I have ever taken my child. The only word I have is RIDICULOUS. I could have done a better job and just let Abby sit in her cozy coupe in the backyard. And I was shocked and horrified that they a)charge $18 for a haircut, and b)didn't give my kid a lollipop. It was truly awful.

We then went to the treehouse of terror. Northbrook Court is a semi high end mall with a semi high end clientele. Their "playland" is this lovely treehouse thing that usually has hundreds of children behaving like wild Indians while their moms drink their Starbucks and talk on their cell phones. For some reason Abby loves it despite the fact that she gets the shit kicked out of her by the 12 yearolds that hang out there while their parents are in the Louis Vuitton store. If nothing else, this place is a great location for people watching. So as we approach the treehouse of terror it is eerily empty. I really thought it was closed, but when Abby pushed the gate, it opened so we were good to go. I sat down and decided it would be a good time to feed Eleanor while Abby was otherwise occupied so she could actually enjoy a meal without her big sister pawing her. Now I have no problem nursing in public, and often I choose not to so that I don't make anyone else uncomfortable, but here there was enough space that I thought it would go unnoticed. No sooner had Nora latched on the Peg Pergo brigade came swooping in. I am serious, the population of the treehouse went from 1 to 100 in 45 seconds. The moms pushing their strollers were scrambling for a place to sit, and glaring at me and my prime real estate.
I just sat and kept an eye on Abby, feeding Nora, doing my thing, and this woman comes and sits next to me on the bench. Fine. She looks over, sees that I am nursing, and LEAPS out of her seat. Is it really that offensive? If she had to listen to the baby cry it would have been worse.
We finished at the treehouse, did a quick jaunt into the other playland (i.e. the Land of Nod store)and dismounted by buying FABULOUS shoes and a shirt (that Abby told me looked like Dragon Tales, how could I not buy it) at Fields.
Then we went to the Mecca of competitive mothering, Target. I love target as a place, but I hate my Target, they never have what I want. Today I wanted to get Abby gym shoes for her "soccer school" that starts soon. Tim had bought her this pair of Nikes that were $40, and I just can't justify spending that on her little feet when I know that before they are even dirty she will have outgrown them. But alas, Abby is a label whore and HAS TO HAVE the shoes that match her soccer ball.

Can anyone tell me how I went to Target to get shoes that were $9.99 and I still spent $84.56? Could it have been on the new pair of black flip flops that I HAD TO HAVE? Or maybe the vitimins that the pediatrician told me that Nora should start taking? No, I know it was on the toilet paper. Wait, I forgot to buy toilet paper, that is why we are using paper towels until I can get to the store tomorrow.

Tonight Tim and I went to buy this patio furniture that my mom saw in the Lowe's circular in today's paper. It, as are most things, was a production. But that is a story for another time. Let me just say this, EVERY single person we talked to knew that he had a "Quad Cab Hemi" in the parking lot and I am serious when I say that had he said that one more time I was going to SCREAM. (thank you, Chip, for acting interested, it made Tim's night)
Having typed that I feel better now. That all has to do with Tim's bizarre upbringing and insecurities, but I don't want to think about that.... I would rather havae swet dreams of my new shoes and my Dragon Tales shirt.....