Friday, September 26, 2008

Come Lord Jesus, Come

This morning....

I remember it as if it were yesterday.

The day started off with such potential: a Friday, nothing on our schedule, the balloon festival gearing up, two happy kids. I even awoke to the sound of giggles as the boys played in their room. Jack was making faces and doing tricks for Ty. Ty just sat there in his bed laughing.

The world looked up. Who knows, maybe our stock would go up today.

As I made breakfast (opened a package of poptarts), I began to formulate a plan for the day.

Every morning for the last... I don't even know how long it's been, I have had a terrible back ache upon waking up. It eventually works itself out throughout the day. Emily, my sis, told me about a new pillow that is supposed to help.

So here are my plans for the morning:
9:15 -toddler time at Chick'fil'a with Miss Darla from the library
10:00 -return a book to the Mall bookstore and while there let Jack play with the train table. This would also be during Ty's morning nap so how perfect is that?
10:45 ish -walk down to Penny's and buy that new pillow.
11:15 -home to make lunch and prepare for naps.

I was particularly excited about the book store portion of our trip. Ty would go to sleep in the stroller, Jack would play trains and I would relax in the easy chair and lose myself in a good book.... it's good to dream isn't it?

We arrive at Chick'fil'a on time and Jack plays for a little while before story time. All of a sudden he looks up to me and says "poo-poo Mommy."

"Jack, do you need to go potty?"

"Potty Mommy"

"Ok, Jack, let's go."

I pick up Ty, reach down to hold Jack's hand and opened the heavy door to go out of the play area at Chick'fil'a. -yeah, kindof sounded like I have three hands doesn't it? I'm sort-of a super hero like that...

On the way to the bathroom I am trying to figure out how this will work. I've never experienced this senerio before. Holding a baby, taking a two-year-old to the bathroom --in public.

Well, we make it work. Turns out all Jack needed to do was pee.

Crisis averted.

Story time was fun, Jack still is scared of the big cow that makes an appearance near the end of the meeting. We loaded up back in the minivan for our next stop: the bookstore and trains.

I'm getting a little excited at this point for I feel like I've come up with a fool-proof plan that only improved since I just took Jack on a potty break.

Arrive at the mall.

Buckle into the stroller.

Make the returns.

Proceed to the train table. (Just to let you know what a good planner I am, I brought two of our own trains just in case there weren't any out at the table. ;-) Smart aren't I?

Well, perfect. Jack started playing peacefully, I pick up Ty who snuggles into my arms and gets ready for his nap.

The phone rings. It's Mike!!! Yay, a great time to talk. No distractions. Happy children. All I need now is a Latte.

Then all of a sudden, I hear those words that will imediately send panic racing through the mind of a mother who has recently potty trained her child but isn't smart enough to put him i pull-ups when going out in public.

"Poo-poo Mommy"

"Uh, Mike, I think I need to go, Jack just said he has to go to the bathroom."

"Oh, ok Honey, I'll just talk to you in a few days."

"No Mike, can you call me back today or tomorrow? I'd like to talk to you"

"Sure, when do you want me to call?"

"Maybe at 3:00 or 4:00 or even 5:00..."

The conversation continues as I explain how much I'd like to talk to him, and we try to plan a good time when he doesn't have to wake up in the middle of the night to call me. He's such a good husband cause he'd do it. He'd wake up in the middle of the night if that was the best time for me to talk.

We are interupted by that sweet little voice repeating himself: "poo-poo Mommy". This time he assumed the stance.

I hung up on my poor husband.

I sensed the urgency in Jack's voice.

I grabbed him up, stood him in the stroller, wheeled around and headed toward the restroom. I thought I was too late, but felt that some salvaging could be done if we immediately got to a toilet.

If you can't handle gross things, stop reading now.

I take off the pants, yep, too late. Lift Jack up, put him on the toilet. Smearing all the way.

I exhale. Now, for damage control.

Stay calm. This could happen to anyone. But when this happens to them, most people will have a diaper bag complete with wipes and a change of clothes.

I didn't.

I look for paper towels. There aren't any, only one of those blow-dryer machines. I look for toiletpaper. "Great," I thought, "I picked the stall without much toilet paper."

I walk around to the other stall and guess what. I very small bit of paper in that one.

Exhale. Stay calm.

I get some paper and wipe up Jack's leg, then the floor, then the seat. I put the paper in the other toilet and flush.

Ty freaks.

Now add a screeming baby to the equation.

I continue to clean up what I can, conserving the TP and wondering if I should take Jack home naked or in dirty underware.

I decide to wash out his underware. Gross. In a normal situation this is my least favorite job of mothering.

I wash them out in the other toilet. Every time I flush Ty gets even more upset. One word kept coming to mind over and over again.


There wasn't a more fitting word to discribe the situation.

I all of a sudden realize that this is a public restroom and someone else could come in at any moment. I look over to see if there is a lock on the restroom door (like in the movies when someone needs bathroom privacy). There isn't.

I wash the underware in the sink now. Just my luck, it's a slow drainer.


Back to Jack, he's done on the toilet. I take him down and put his yellow croc's back on. Ty's still screeming.

I'm back to the sink washing underware. I hear a stall door slam. The last thing I need is him playing in the toilet.

"Jack, get out of there! Ja...!"

I whirl around to see Jack standing there looking at me."

Nope, Jack didn't slam the door.... It was some poor unsuspecting sole who had no idea what had been going on in here.

Well, I finish washing the underware, the woman leaves. I tell Jack that he is going to have to put on wet underware. He thinks it's cold, but doesn't fight me.

I feel like the situation is now under control. Whew! Ok, now what's the next step. I have learned that mothering is full of decision making situations. This was a big one.

Go home? Go back to the trains w/o pants? Go buy some shorts and underware and continue on with the original plan cause... nothing worse can happen than has already happened. My son is wearing underware that has just been dipped in toilet water from a PUBLIC RESTROOM! I agree with myself that nothing else worse can happen and I am determined to have my "latte moment."

I head out the door and into the mall straight for sears. We buy underware and a cute pair of plaid shorts (next summer's size). Next to the Sears restroom to put on the new clothes then back to the bookstore.

I have my "latte moment" after I put Ty to sleep and back into his stroller. Actually I wouldn't glorify it enough to call it a "moment". It was more like I just collapsed into the chair and didn't move for a good 10 minutes.

30 minutes later. We left. I bought my pillow and am looking forward to a good nights sleep tonight.