I'm always a bit amazed when I go out with my kids at the looks I get from other adults. Looks that say, "Must suck to be her." I guess because having two little kids can be pretty intense and high volume and, I admit, at times hectic.
My kids are not the stand still and hold onto the buggy in silence while I shop kind. They sing and they dance and they point out every sparkly thing they see and Beatrice always asks me to look at this and that the whole time and she gets away every chance she gets!
But to me? This is not a problem. This is what I asked for. My children are not mistakes. It wasn't oops, I guess we're having a kid now. Nope, James and I planned it. We were trying- both times. We wanted this. The messes, the noise, the poop, the cuddles, the sticky faces and hands, sometimes having to buy a snow globe because someone threw it out of the buggy when we were still in the store, the endless trips to Target for diapers and formula, tiny people between us in bed, baby clothes everywhere. All of it.
This is not the time in my life for leisurely shopping in the peace and quiet. This is a time for singing Waltzing Matilda on repeat and reading Dr Seuss. This is the time for crumbs in the backseat. For crayon marks on the walls.