Dear Target

You get me. You’re reliable. You know what I need before I even know. You are a place I can go when I need a friend or to spend $200 in the blink of an eye. A place we go when we are bored or have no other activities on the docket for the day (we need new toothbrushes, let’s go to Target, we’ll make a day of it! ?). A place of refuge where a hot coffee awaits (shout out to whoever came up with putting Starbucks inside of Target ?) and where bribery-by-cake-pops works wonders.

Basically, thank you for being a safe space for this mama. ❤️

Tonight when I changed my newborn's diaper in the Christmas decor aisle, I knew you wouldn’t judge me. When I proceeded to nurse my screaming baby in the aisle after the diaper changing, I knew you wouldn’t look at me like I was crazy. As I shushed my toddler and begged her to sit in her seat and gave her Happy Baby pouches and Oreos and anything else that would give me 3 more minutes to finish nursing her sister, I knew all I had to do was turn to your open, loving arms and I’d find more and more helpful tools to keep my toddler in check. (Mostly things like candy and cookies with icing and pouches and Dollar Spot finds. Although, I don’t thank you for sneaking those $3 toys into the $1 section because my kids always find those, and you know what? Those puppies add up! ?)

As I (in a very calm and kind manner, of course) declined every single toy request from my 3.5-year-old, I knew you’d understand (even though you *probably* wanted me to give in because, let’s face it, you have numbers to hit.) You are a place where I, apparently, feel comfortable putting a self-timer on my phone and taking a photo with my kids among said aisle of Christmas decor while nursing my baby.

To be honest, we’ve taken selfies in your family bathroom a handful of times, too.

I’ve also nursed my babies in your dressing rooms. So thanks for that, too. Speaking of your dressing rooms, if I’m being completely candid with you (since you’re such a good friend)—I’ve cried in them once or twice too. I mean, you’re basically the only place I shop for clothes these days and after each baby, when none of my clothes fit, you’re the friend I turned to when I needed to dress my postpartum body. Tears have been shed while cursing a pair of Xhilaration pants that wouldn’t move past my hips or a Mossimo bathing suit that didn’t look quite how I pictured it would look in my head.

But also, to be fair, your dressing rooms have also been a place where I may or may not have fist pumped as I found the PERFECT pair of maternity leggings ??and then what would be the PERFECT pair of postpartum leggings.

Oh Target, I thank you for your loyalty as a friend.

I guess after the many, many (many) times I’ve blacked out and added very, very (very) random things to my cart and had a panic attack when I got to the register and realized I just spend $130 on...what? I don’t’s a good thing I feel so close to you. I guess I can change diapers wherever I want and nurse up and down any godforsaken aisle, because, let’s face it—you own me and all my money.

Love you. ❤️