I am fiercely independent when it comes to the babies. I pride myself on the fact that I can do so much with them by myself. I wear Miss K and push Brooks, or carry them both slung on a hip, or in the carriers one on each arm like a body builder lifting weights. I feel a great sense of accomplishment when we get where we're going especially with happy babes. I think I might have taken this to the extreme on Monday though.
Brooks is fascinated with Miss K's hair, he loves to touch it, which usually means pulling it. We are working on "gentle" and "soft hands" with him, but the dude is only 8.5 months old! Since they were side by side in the cart, Brooks was in hog heaven
The grocery where we shop has those new tiered carts, so the kids were atop with a small basket behind them and then there is a larger more protruding basket below it. Almost done with our shopping my penultimate purchase was a bag of flour. I grabbed it and while protecting Miss K's head tried to toss it between the tiers so it wouldn't crush the eggs at the back of the bottom tier. A nice gentleman asked if he could help me and I declined with my usual peppy voice of "no thanks, I've got it." Just then I make the toss, the bag catches the side and rips, flour goes all over the floor and I look like a donkey. My face must have turned 5 shades of red, just then Miss K shrieks and Brooks looking innocent, yet fascinated by her locks, has a chunk of her hair in his hand. I attend to them and then found a clerk. Apologized profusely and skulked away to get my last two items and high tail it out of there.
I had to pick up a few more items yesterday and went to a different store.