How the Grandmas Ruined Target for Me

I'm sorry, Grandmas, but it's true. My shopping oasis with my little buddy will never be the same.

If you've ever met me, read this blog or had a conversation about my favorite place on earth, you know that I LOVE Target. 

My ideal morning looks like this: pulling into the Target parking lot at 7:58am – right before it opens – securing my self-designated parking spot, and watching them unlock those glorious doors to reveal a magical place that loves to take my money.

After the Little Mister (LM) was born, this tradition continued. Maternity leave was the perfect time to do my Target stroll during the week, when everyone else was at work! We had the whole store to ourselves.

Here is LM on his very first 

Target run at 3 weeks old.

For three and a half years, LM and I would enjoy our mornings in Target. He'd have a snack while I sipped an iced coffee, we'd pick up new books to read, stock up on diapers and formula, and – of course – we'd buy outfits and home decor that we didn't need.

Then one day, LM came home from his Grandma's house with a new toy.

"Where did you get that?" I asked him.

"TARGET!" LM replied, excitement in his eyes. "Mommy, they have TOYS at Target!"

And that's when my perfect little Target world came crumbling down.

You see, up until this very day, LM had no idea that Target sold toys. Why? BECAUSE I NEVER TOOK HIM TO THE TOY DEPARTMENT. 

Free parenting advice: If you take a child to a toy department, he's going to want a toy. 

So to avoid having to have the "discussion" (read: tantrum) about why we're not buying a toy every time we go to 'the store with the red carts' I just avoided the toy department completely.

And let me tell you something: it was wonderful. 

A week later, LM's other Grandmother took him to Target. And guess what? Another toy!

"I like Target," LM told me, clutching his new toy as we drove home. 

"Yeah," I told him. "I used to like it, too."

Thanks a LOT, Grandmas!

Day 5: Ok, Target, Just TAKE My Money

It's no secret I LOVE Target.

You'll find me there right when the store opens, Starbucks in hand, browsing the aisles and uncovering amazing finds. Sometimes my toddler is in tow, having been a Target shopper since he was 3 weeks old.

It doesn't matter how long I'm in the store - 20 minutes or 2 hours - I can't escape this place for under $200 $100.

And then Target goes and announces they're partnering with Chip and Joanna Gaines of Fixer Upper fame for an exclusive line of home items.

My favorite store + my favorite show = RedCard trouble.

I remember when Target partnered with Lily Pulitzer for the exclusive clothing and home goods line and it was total mayhem. Women camped out at the store overnight to be first in line for the pink and green creations. Target's website crashed and things were sold out faster than you could refresh your browser.

And was there ever hype about the launch of this line. Social media madness, everywhere I looked.

I wanted to go and be there on the morning the line launched. However, I was NOT standing in line. Plus, it was daylight savings day, which always screws up little kid's sleeping habit (though in the case of our toddler, he slept later instead of waking up earlier).

Then it started raining, and the thought of getting to Target during prime weekend shopping times on the day of a new line launching that was created by TV stars was less than desirable.

I swear, I wasn't going to go.

Until I had this conversation with my Little Mister:

ME: "Where do you want to go today?"

LM: "Let's go to Target!"

I swear, this was completely unprompted. But if my son wanted to go to Target, then we sure as hell were going to Target.

And not only was Target not that crowded, but they had many of the Hearth & Hand items in stock and on display. 

I shivered with excitement.

"Is Lightning McQueen here?" LM asked me.

"Not here. But Chip and Joanna are," I told him, running my hands along the curve of a large vase.

"I don't want them, I want Lightning!" Seemed I would be speed shopping this collection today.

Oooh look at that metal "Letters for Santa" mailbox, which I would love for our holiday decor. The pitchers were beautiful, too, but if I brought one more kitchen item into the house I think Mr. KK would kill me. Did I mention the wreaths? Or how about the little decorative houses?

"Let's go see Lightning!" LM demanded, waking me from my daydream of redecorating my entire house.

I quickly picked out a few candles that were the right shade of gray with a yummy scent, looking wistfully over my shoulder as we headed off to the toy section.

Until we meet again, my pretties. Which very well may be online, right after I hit "Publish".

Psst...You Should Have Another Kid!

I have never felt such pressure to have a second baby.

Not from my parents.

Not from my inlaws.

Not from my friends.

Not even from Max asking for a baby sister or brother.

Nope.

My baby pressure is coming from none other than my old friend the red bullseye.

Damn you, Target, and your unfair marketing.

Do you think I'm made of stone???

How can I resist an email like this:

The nautical color palette. 
The rustic shiplap wall. 
The cozy sleeping nook.
That damn adorable fox pillow.

You're not playing fair, Target.

You didn't get me this time.

But I'm on to you.

(Any chance that crib skirt comes in a King?)

Day 17: A baby changes everything. (thanks, Captain Obvious!)

A baby changes your whole life. That's what everyone told me while we were waiting for Max's arrival; and now that I've experienced it, I completely understand what they mean.

My "routine" is different. 

PRE-MAX: wake up, go to the gym, work, come home, cook dinner, watch TV and go to bed. Basically, do stuff for ME.

NOW: wake up, clean bottles, make bottles, feed Max bottles, change diapers from bottles, repeat.

"Oh I can't, the baby is waking up/hungry/crying/needs my attention."

When in doubt, blame it on the baby.

PRE-MAX: "Ugh. Okay." (cue guilt)

NOW:

On the phone

Representative: "Would you like to take a quick survey about our service?"

KK:  "Oooh, you know I would love to, but I have a newborn just waking up from a nap. Maybe next time."

In the bank

Teller:  "Do you have time for me to tell you about the 2,347 benefits you could be taking advantage of by banking with us?"

KK:  "Oooh, you know I wish I did, but I have to get home to my baby."

To people trying to sell me something/collect donations

Strangers: "Hi, would you like to buy a calendar to support the high school basket weaving club?"

KK:  "Oooh, you know I wish I could, but we have a college education to save up for!"

Date night at home.

PRE-MAX: enjoy a few chilled cocktails, open bottle of wine, cook a late dinner, watch a movie, relax.

NOW: strategically feeding Max and calculating nap time, then sipping on a warm cocktail while coordinating dinner with the precision of someone organizing a space shuttle launch. Then asking, "If we do bath night tomorrow, can I have another glass of wine?"

Date night out.

PRE-MAX: drinks and dinner at night; or a full-day of visiting breweries then happy hour then dinner.

NOW: Date night what?

Shopping at Target.

PRE-MAX:  Self-limitation of ONE trip per month with a triple-digit total.

NOW:  With Max in the main part of the cart, I only have the little front section to put goodies. So, in a way, Max is helping me SAVE money. (How's THAT for logic, Mr. KK???)

Shopping everywhere else.

PRE-MAX:  "OMG! Look at this cute sweater/pair of shoes/coat/necklace/pillow! I must buy!"

NOW:  "Does this sleeper come in 0-3 months?"

But I wouldn't trade any of it. 

Not for a second.

no longer a Target virgin

I waited as long as possible before introducing Max to utopia Target, and the store officially has its newest, smallest, cutest guest.

Max, keeping a low profile. 

Never let them see your excitement.

Max was bundled, we had our list in hand (which consisted mostly of formula!) and we started what would be the first of MANY trips to the bullseye together.

I had something to return (of course) so we hit up the customer service line as soon as we walked in.

As we were waiting, a woman approached me.

Aaand, here we go.

She was middle aged, disheveled, and dressed in knee-high patterned rain boots, khaki shorts and see-through rain slicker (it was sunny out, btw) and sweatshirt with a picture of a cat on it, and her hair was standing on end. Honestly, she looked like she took a wrong turn and missed the exit for the OTHER big box store.

She peered into the cart at a peacefully sleeping Max.

"Cute baby," she said, staring at me.

"Thank you," I replied because, well, that's what you say, even to weirdos.

"I'll give you five dollars for him."

Excuse me?

Did this woman just offer to buy my baby?

And is five dollars the going rate for babies these days?

(If so, we just did everything totally WRONG)

Normally I would turn on the 'tude, but this woman was creepy.

"Haha, well, he's not for sale." Understatement.

She continued to stare at me. "I bet he kept you up all night crying."

Actually, he didn't.

"No, he's a good boy."

"Oh he's a good by, huh? Just wait." She bore her spooky eyes into mine, as if casting a spell of sleepless nights upon us.

"NEXT!" the cashier called out.

I pushed ahead to the service desk, and the weirdo found someone else to harass.

Now, can we spend twice as much as we should and buy a million things we don't need in peace, please?

Tales of the weak and stupid

The setting: the customer service return line at Target.

Where – apparently – I spend half of my life.

A guy walks up to the register carrying a jar of salsa. No bag. Just saunters over with the jar and plops it down on the counter.

GUY: "I'd like to return this salsa."

CASHIER: (eyeing jar suspiciously) "Is something wrong with it?"

GUY: "Yeah, I can't open it."

**cough – wussy! – cough cough**

CASHIER: "Do you have a receipt?"

Ah, the age-old question.

GUY: "No. I've had the jar for six months."

CASHER: (giving him the same look I was giving him behind his back) "So you want to return it?"

Wait. 

This guy has been holding onto this store-brand salsa for six months and he can't open the jar so he's returning it? It probably cost him more in gas to drive to the store for this time-wasting trip than to just throw the damn thing away. I know it cost him more in pride to admit that he can't open a jar of effing salsa.

CASHIER: "Ok, I'll need your license…"

I know the drill all too well. No savvy shopper is going to waste their $70 in annual returns on a jar of salsa!

Amateur.

(Perhaps he can use the return money to purchase one of those rubber grippy thingies that help open really touch jars?)

Target Fail

Dear Target,

I thought we had something together. Every weekend we'd see each other and spend time together – and it was wonderful! – and I always left you feeling satisfied. I would show up early when very few people were around. I'd bring my iced coffee and stroll leisurely, taking pictures and texting family and friends and just TRULY enjoying our time together.

You offered me so much more than anyone else; you were everything under one roof. Especially with the news of Baby M and all of the wonderfulness you had to share – from cute clothes to helping me create a registry gift list.

You were my rock.
I never thought I'd find fault in you.

Until Saturday.

It hurts to utter these words but, Target, you disappointed me.

A few Sundays ago, friends and family gathered together to shower Baby M with gifts. Their generosity was overwhelming. I wasn't sure our living room would recover:

As with any shower, I got a few duplicate items. (I know Sofie is an international teething phenomenon, but how many chewy giraffes can one baby have??)

So on Saturday I packed my trunk with my duplicate gifts, picked up my mother, and headed to Target.

I did not have gift receipts for 99% of what was in my car, but this has to happen all of the time, right? People returning shower gifts? To the store at which they were registered?

At customer service I was instructed to print a "Gift Registry Log" from their kiosks.

Well – shocker – the system was down.

KK: "Can I print off the "purchased items" registry so you can see they were purchased and then I can return them?"

Customer Service: "No. I need the bar codes."

KK: "The bar codes are on the products."

CS: "But I need the bar codes FIRST then I scan the products."
You need a bar code and then you'll scan a bar code?

KK: "Ok. There has to be another way to do this. How else can I return this stuff?"

CS: "You can return it against your license without a receipt, but there's a limit."

KK: "What kind of limit?"

CS: "$70"

KK: "A day?"

CS: "No, a year."

Um, well that's not going to work. I have two rubber giraffes that cost $25 EACH in these bags.

MOM: "What if we call a bunch of people to come down with their licenses to help out?" God love her.

KK: "No. That's not the right way to do this. These were gifts, off of a registry from this store. There has to be another way."

CS: "There's no other way."

KK: "You have to understand where I'm coming from here. Most of this stuff is from my registry. I'm questioning the validity of the registry as a whole, since I registered for TWO sets of giraffe sheets and I got SIX, and friends have told me they had the sheets taken off the registry, but that's another issue entirely. I don't understand how I'm being penalized for returns when YOUR system isn't working. Find another way to make this work."

CS: (staring at me, not helping)

This went on for about 20 minutes. You know how they say when you're in a relationship you're the last one to see how ridiculous you're being? Well, that was me – with Target – on Saturday. I was the lunatic in Customer Service with a cart filled with onesies and butt cream and rubber animals.

KK: "So you won't take any of this back against my registry? Not one thing?"

I wanted to scream, 'Don't you know who I am??? I'm here every week! My family is close to staging an intervention with my habit with you! I thought we had something special! I feel so used!'

But, instead, I turned my cart around, head held high, and headed out to the parking lot.

And guess what, Target? I went to Carter's today for baby clothes.

AND I LIKED IT.