If this makes me a mommy blogger, then so be it.

Ailey turned three on Tuesday (omg, I know).  I
Among her gifts from my parents was a Frozen DVD, which we somehow have avoided for three years because we are blessed beyond measure.

But, Ailey has friends and stuff, and they teach her about things like “Let it Go” and hard drugs, probably (kids these days). She knew too much. She was asking to watch “Elsa singing” on my phone every day. It was time.
So, along with all of the expected “three-nager” sass, her third birthday ushered in all of the princesses.

We’re throwing a birthday party for her this weekend, so I loaded up both kids to go to Sam’s Club to buy food for the festivities. For me, having two kids to bring along on errands is a total gamechanger compared to just one easygoing child who loves to shop.

Cort is too small to sit in the cart, a fact which I decided to test in a bull goods store of all places, where the carts are literal barges. After about five minutes, it became clear that he was still too little to sit in the front of the cart, so for the rest of the trip, I carried a baby with one arm and pushed my barge of bulk goods (yay capitalism!) with the other. I do not recommend.

Cort was happy with this arrangement all through the sections of the store in close proximity to seating–we sailed past some plush leather couches and some wicker settees like we had not a care in the world. No, it wasn’t until our barge had crossed the ocean of commercialized bulk items that the mancub decided he MUST EAT NOW and there was not a seat to be had.

Naturally, I plopped down to nurse him on top of a pallet of cases Monster Energy drink. No one needs that stuff anyway. I’m pretty sure it’s pseudo-poisonous. Ailey is straight-up lounging in the cart at this point, because she’s got the whole front deck of the barge to herself. She is loving life and making sure that you know it, singing at the top of her lungs. I’m starting to get the side-eye from passers-by because I’ve got a squirming baby in my shirt and a toddler scream-singing next to me and the people need their Monster Energy Drinks.

“Ailey, could you please sing a little quieter?” I ask (super politely too–suck it, mom guilt).

She drops her voice to a whisper. “Is dis quieter, Your Highness?”