Third vs. First Child

Caroline does not like shopping. Well, to clarify, she doesn't like sitting in her carseat while I shop. Generally, if I do not wear her in the Moby, I end up with a screaming baby before the end of the excursion, which is what happened yesterday at Costco. I made it almost all the way through the store without any major glitches (well, unless you count mango nectar spilled all over Grant and our gallons of milk)--until I ran into a friend. My tired baby started screaming and several people, in their amazing knowledge of my daughter, commented that she was hungry. We made it to the lines that were, in typical Costco fashion, 5 carts deep. Everyone turned to look at the woman with the screaming baby, the sticky 2-year-old, and the wild 4-year-old. I had a similar situaton with Jack when he was her age, and I remember feeling like everyone was thinking what a bad mom I was to let my baby scream. Yesterday I didn't get the feeling that I was a bad mom. I did, however, feel as though everyone was looking at me and feeling sorry for me. I'm not sure which one is worse!