10 Things I Stopped Buying at Target That I Don’t Miss At All

Last Thursday I walked into Target for “just printer paper” and walked out with a sad little Starbucks, a new candle I didn’t need, and a bag of mini muffins my kids inhaled before we hit the stoplight. I dumped the haul on my kitchen counter and did that thing where you line it all up like evidence and pretend you’re not the one who bought it.

I’m a mom of three, which means I’m always tired and always convinced one more “helpful” purchase will fix my life. It never does. The stuff I stopped tossing into my cart has been a surprisingly painless breakup, and the first one might sound small until you’ve watched it happen 46 times.

Target Dollar Spot seasonal bins (the $5 ones that crack in a month)

I used to buy those cute little plastic bins from Bullseye’s Playground like they were going to organize my entire home in one afternoon. Spoiler: they just organized my guilt. I had a stack of three “farmhouse” white bins under the entryway bench, and by week three the corners were split from my kids shoving shoes in like they were loading a cannon. The last straw was when my middle kid dragged one upstairs by the handle and the handle stayed in his hand like a cartoon. Now I use the IKEA KUGGIS boxes, and they don’t act offended when someone uses them like an actual box.

Threshold candles I only bought because the label was pretty

I love a candle moment. I also love pretending I’m the kind of woman who has a “signature scent.” But I kept buying Threshold candles that smelled amazing for nine minutes and then turned into “hot wax with a hint of regret.” One “Eucalyptus + Mint” jar tunneled so badly it looked like a tiny wax volcano, and I was sitting there with a butter knife trying to excavate it while my oldest asked why it “smelled like a dentist.” I still buy candles, just not as impulse decor. If I’m spending candle money, I want it to actually scent the room.

Up & Up snack-size baggies when I really needed Ziploc

This one felt petty until it wasn’t. I bought the Up & Up snack bags because they were cheaper, then spent my mornings trying to get them to seal while a child narrated my failure. The seal would look closed, then I’d find Goldfish dust in the bottom of a backpack like we’d been raising crackers in captivity. Once, I opened a lunchbox and a yogurt-covered pretzel had fused to a banana in a way that still haunts me. I stopped “saving” the $1-and-some-change and went back to Ziploc. My sanity is worth more than a bag that lies to me.

Mini Bullseye plush “rewards” for potty training and lost teeth

I used to keep a stash of those tiny Target Bullseye plushies for motivation: potty wins, dentist bravery, surviving a grocery trip without licking the cart. It worked for approximately one child and then turned into negotiations like we were drafting a treaty. My youngest once asked, “If I put my shoes on, do I get the dog one?” as if that’s a normal sentence. By month four, the plush pile on the playroom shelf looked like a carnival prize bin and nobody cared about any of them. We switched to sticker charts and “pick the movie tonight,” and somehow my house has fewer tiny felt eyeballs staring at me.

Good & Gather flavored sparkling waters that taste like perfume

I wanted to be a sparkling water person. I bought a case of Good & Gather “Cucumber Mint” because it sounded like something a functional adult would drink after yoga. It tasted like I’d accidentally sipped bath product. The cans sat in the fridge so long my husband started using them as a joke threat: “Don’t make me open the cucumber one.” The final insult was when we ran out of actual drinks at a birthday party and I offered one to my sister, and she took one sip and quietly set it down like it was a science experiment. Now I stick to Polar or LaCroix flavors I know won’t betray me.

Cat & Jack “cute” white sneakers that turn gray by lunchtime

Cat & Jack has saved me a thousand times, but the white fashion sneakers were not one of those times. I bought them for back-to-school photos and imagined clean, crisp vibes. By the end of the first day, they looked like my kid had been kicking the underside of a school bus. I tried Magic Eraser, I tried dish soap, I tried that desperate mom thing where you whisper, “Please,” while scrubbing. Two weeks in, the toes were permanently scuffed and the laces had that mysterious cafeteria stain that never leaves. Now I buy dark sneakers or washable ones, and our photo memories survive without evidence of recess.

Hearth & Hand with Magnolia “decor” signs with words on them

I went through a phase where I thought a wooden sign saying “gather” would make my family… gather. Instead, it just sat on a shelf while we ate quesadillas standing up. I bought a Hearth & Hand sign for $14.99 and hung it above the dining table, which we use mostly for homework arguments and sorting clean laundry. My friend came over, read it out loud, and my oldest said, “We don’t do that here,” without looking up from his cereal. I took it down the next day. I don’t miss dusting motivational words that my kids treat like sarcasm.

Target’s $1.99 greeting cards I grabbed in a panic at checkout

I am the queen of “Oh no, it’s a birthday” moments. I’d snag a $1.99 card at Target, scribble something heartfelt in the car, and hand it over with the receipt still in my purse. One time, I accidentally bought a card that said “For a fabulous aunt” and gave it to my son’s teacher because I was rushing and my brain was cooked. She was gracious, but I wanted to crawl into the trunk. Now I keep a small box of blank cards at home and write them when I’m not sweating under fluorescent lights. It’s cheaper and I’m less likely to accidentally assign someone a new family role.

Starbucks in Target “just because I’m already here” drinks

My Target trips used to come with a Tall Pike like it was part of the admission price. Then it became a Brown Sugar Oatmilk Shaken Espresso “as a treat,” which is how I apparently describe spending $6.45 on caffeine I could’ve made at home. I looked at my bank app on January 17 and saw four separate Starbucks charges in one week, all attached to errands that did not require a beverage. Now I bring coffee in a travel mug like the boring responsible adult I am. And honestly? I enjoy Target more when I’m not balancing a cup while wrestling a cart that pulls left.

Target-brand kids’ character toothbrushes that fall apart in 10 days

I kept buying those kids’ toothbrushes with the fun characters because my kids would actually brush without a fight for, like, two nights. Then the rubber grips would start peeling, the bristles would splay out like a palm tree in a hurricane, and I’d find one sitting in the tub with toothpaste cemented to it. Once, my youngest handed me his and said, “It’s pokey now,” which is not what you want your oral care to be. I switched to Oral-B kids’ brushes in a multipack from Costco, and they last long enough that I’m not adding “emergency toothbrush run” to my weekly chaos.