This evening, we took a family outing to Costco. The way families do. To indulge in samples of pumpkin pie (hello, Fall!), chicken bakes and smoothies. Before we left the house, Taylor loaded Isla into the car with her baby doll in hand and we were ready to take on the world. We made it safe and sound to the store and pre-gamed dinner with an honorary chicken bake. Everything went smooth sailing from that point on today. That is until we reached bed time. The time when Isla likes to prop herself up on her dad’s lap with a book in one hand and her baby doll in the other. The same baby doll that we took to Costco. Except, said baby doll is probably stranded in the third row of the Costco parking lot wondering how the haaaiiiil we managed to leave her without noticing. And boy, did Isla notice. She spent a solid 30 minutes tonight digging through her toy basket grabbing each stuffed animal one at a time hugging them briefly and then tossing them to the ground. Because I’m pretty sure they weren’t filling that baby doll sized hole that I dropped when I opened her car door. She searched every nook of our house, lifting blankets and whipping them to the side when she found nothing underneath. Poor sweet girl just wanted to tuck her baby doll in for bed. So in true parenthood fashion, we distracted her with a daddy tickle session, a YouTube clip of Elmo, slipped her some milk and swooped her off to bed. It worked for tonight, but I have a feeling I’ll be making an early morning Target run.
MORE LIVE ACTION BABY SAGA FOOTAGE ON MY INSTAGRAM STORY: @SAMANTHABRODERICK
UPDATE: We made our Target run and bought what I’m pretty sure is a knock off American Girl doll (…and her puppy). Only to then have a girl’s lunch, leave the puppy at the cafe, pull a (legal) U-turn halfway home, to retrieve this freaking dog. Fast forward an hour later, we’re home and Isla is down for her nap. I finally decide it’s probably a good time to do the dishes. The telling sign? Nope, not the mound in the sink, but the lack of any utensils, plates, or cups. I fill up the dishwasher (with plenty of leftover dishes in the sink that wouldn’t fit — yep, it was that bad). And, I decide to manually wash a few big pots the old fashioned way – a mano. I even decided to hand dry them, instead of air dry. And, wait for it, even put them away right that second. I bend down, open up the cabinet to tuck the spaghetti strainer in it’s rightful home only to find the long lost (once thought to be stranded in a Costco parking lot) baby. Am I about to go hide that knock off American Girl doll in my trunk so I can return it later? Heck yes. Heck. Yes.