Family Shopping Trip

I am a proud Canadian. But as much as I love my country, we do have some serious shopping hardships.

Ladies—there is no Target in Canada! And that's not all...there's no Macy's, no outlet malls and no Cold Stone Creamery!

Yes, we endure desperate conditions up here in the frozen tundra with our beaver pelts and moose-antler wall hangings.

So, every once in a while, we who live close enough grab our passports and our credit cards and make a run for the border. (But we do come back—did I mention we have free health care? Target can only tempt a girl so much.)

When I mentioned to my husband that I was going shopping in the U.S., he suggested that we turn it into a "family trip." I didn't have the heart to say no. Maybe it will be OK? I thought. I mean, there will be two of us to manage the kids, right? Sure—it will be fun. Let's do it!

Did I mention I have a 7-year-old son, a 21-month-old daughter and a husband who hates shopping? A cross-border shopping trip really wasn't the best idea for some quality family time.

I know you are right there with me. You can see me give my son "the look" that makes him drop to the floor to serve his time-out. You can feel my frustration when my husband tells me how long we have been in the store...every 10 minutes.

But when we only had one hour until the mall closed and I offered to take the kids with me to Macy's (to find some dresses that I desperately needed for an upcoming conference) and let my husband check out Old Navy by himself, well, that was the cue for things to turn ugly.

I maneuvered Olivia's stroller between the racks, grabbing some dresses and racing against the ticking time bomb that was my overtired toddler.

There were no attendants, so another shopper told me to just go on in and grab a room. I positioned Olivia's stroller against the door and gave into her wails to get out of her stroller. I sat her on the bench beside me. With one dress over my head, I heard my son cackle and the door open.

I peered out of the neck opening to see my toddler's eyes dance with mischievous delight as she disappeared with my wallet into the store. Jackson was incapacitated with laughter.

I struggled to get far enough into the dress to follow her without exposing myself. "Jackson," I begged my son, "Go get her!" And we both chased after Olivia, who had disappeared like only a toddler can.