A Letter to My Husband on Why I Spent Another $100 at Buy Buy Baby

Picture this:

After three nights of being woken up no less than four times, you drag yourself out of bed to tackle a morning at home alone with a two and a half year old and a three month old. Tasks include: loading the dishes from the night before, taking out the overflowing trash, picking up 2yo's clothes from the bathroom and husband's underwear, getting dinner in the crockpot, pumping milk, loading the washing machine, getting 2yo more cereal-no pancakes-no-juice-no-water, getting 2 yo dressed with clean diaper, getting 3 mo dressed with clean diaper, and continuing your fruitless search for Wall-E's other wheel.

You finally get out the door, of course without a shower or even make up on, and head into buy buy baby to return a breast pump bandeau that didn't fit you, another twist of the knife of your plateaued baby weight loss. As soon as you walk in the store, your 3 mo, who has been crying incessantly in the car, now turns of the volume as if knowing he now has an audience. Meanwhile, your 2 yo has decided he wants everything. He wants it all. He wants it now. You somehow manage to return your breast bandeau and head to the humidifiers to find one to ward off an impending cold that your 2 yo is threatening you with. People are staring because the baby is still crying and now the 2 yo is screaming too because you won't dismantle the fire truck lamp off the display. You grab a humidifier that is not $140 because who the fuck needs a humidifier that is $140?

You head to the bottle section to buy a bottle that is supposed to be good for babies reluctant to drink out of a bottle, screaming children in tow. Thank God you spot it like Waldo in a sea of crap because now the 3 mo is threatening to shit himself he's crying so hard. You take him out of the car seat and give your 2 yo a box of cookie monster cookies. The children are quiet, but you can't quite maneuver the cart and knock a few things over in your attempt to find the other recommended bottle. You find the bottle and congratulate yourself on just buying the $17 nipple rather than the $19 bottle because you already own the bottles. WTF? The nipples are $17! Jesus Christ. Let's hope the $6 bottle works so you can take this faux nipple back.

You realize at this point that maybe having your hands free while you pump is a good idea so that you can multi-task. The bandeau's are $35 though. You grab the same bandeau you just returned only a size larger... too late. Your 2 yo has spotted a Yo Gabba Gabba toddler bed and will rest at nothing until he can play with it. The only problem? It's a display. On the ceiling. 

At this point you remember you are dangerously low on diapers for the 3 mo who has, incidentally, spit up on your shoulder. You maneuver your cart over to the diapers, taking out a display of fruit snacks along the way, grab the diapers and take the long way back out to avoid passing the toys. 

Your 2 yo is demanding water-no-juice-no Jake and the Neverland pirate, so you turn around, nearly hitting customers coming into the store. You finally make it to the counter and hand over the 5 coupons you have. Guess what? Only two of them work. Thankful that you at least saved $20, you pry pilfered toys out of your 2 yo's hand, put the 3 mo back into his carseat and head back to the car. Both children are unsatisfied at this point-- the 2 yo because he didn't get anything but cookie monster cookies and the 3 mo because he's back in his carseat. 

Realizing it is dangerously close to naptime and you just dont have it in you to make a lunch that your 2 yo will undoubtedly reject, you go to McDonald's because at least you can get a Diet Coke. Yes. You do want it super-sized. The woman has to ask you to repeat your order several times because your 3 mo is diabolical at this point since the car has stopped and the 2 yo is screaming too because the Finding Nemo DVD has stalled again. 

You drive out of the parking lot, trying to plan how you are going to get a shower when your husband calls. He wants to know why you just spent another $100 at Buy Buy Baby. You feebly explain the nipple vs. bottle trial and he prods you with questions about what the rest of the $80 was spent on. Your eldest is screaming for water-no-juice. Your youngest has gone catatonic. He will awaken to punish you for your sins and an anger will rise up out of him like a Phoenix out of the ashes, the likes of which you have never seen. 

And I ask you. Would you give a FUCK how much you had spent at Buy Buy Baby and why?

I am dedicating this music video to you husband, oh sweet fucktard that you are, for playing with fire today.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wmin5WkOuPw

Sincerely,

Your beautiful, patient, kind wife