In college, my friends called me Grandma. Because I was responsible and I always had everything in my purse. You’d think this trait would bleed into my mom life- but alas, some things just aren’t meant to be. The more kids you have, the more you tend to forget. Or maybe you just care less about what you may forget. Either way, you become better able to adapt. At last count I have 4 children so you can see where I’m headed with this.
My boys have basketball practice for an hour on Thursdays. Since my husband was out of town, I brought the girls with me last week. I was chatting with my mom on the phone when I realized there was a familiar odor wafting from the direction of my toddler’s behind. I contemplated letting it go because
1. She may not be done;
2. It’s only an hour practice;
and most importantly –
3. I was totally unprepared.
Not only did I not have a diaper bag, or random diaper in my purse, I also knew it wasn’t in my car. But then I remembered that we had to go back into town before heading home so I knew I had to figure something out.
When my older daughter needed to use the bathroom a few weeks ago at one of the boy’s games, I remember there being a fully stocked changing table in the bathroom. With any luck, I could just change as usual with a good faith promise to restock on our next visit. If all else failed, I could dump her messy diaper, clean her up as best I could, and put the diaper back on. Not ideal, but better than sitting in a messy diaper for an hour.
It’s worth noting that although in the same building, I entered a different bathroom. Although there was in fact a changing table, it was void of any supplies. I laid her down, and upon inspecting the diaper, I could immediately see the need to re-evaluate my answer when the doctor asked if she had diarrhea not 2 hours earlier. This was not a simple dump and go situation y’all. So there I was re-evaluating my seemingly plausible plan.
The diaper was very full and was in fact starting to creep out the top, up her back, and onto her shirt. I couldn’t just pretend I didn’t smell her and head back to practice; although the thought did cross my mind.
I sat her on the counter, wet a few paper towels, and started cleaning off her back. I wiped the poop from the hem of her shirt and rolled her waistband down. Here’s where the real fun begins.
One second I’m trying to clean up her waistband and the next something shifts and much to my surprise- poop.is.airborne!!!! In my 8 years of changing diapers- I have never had a similar situation. I flinched and assessed the damage. I could see a generous amount landed on the changing table over my right shoulder, and as I turned back toward the mirror, I realized, to my dismay, some had found its way... into.her.hair. From the back of her waistband, midair, and then onto the top of her head! The physics of this 180 degree head/table trajectory defies me.
I was now fully committed to getting this diaper off. Trying to think on my feet, I pulled open the cupboards beneath the sink. I found toilet paper, paper towels, and... maxi pads. Nice, thick, heavy flow maxi pads. Very diaper-esque. I’m not exactly sure WHY this restroom stocks maxi pads because as I quickly panned around, no dispensing machine was in sight - not that I had a quarter to pay for one anyhow. These maxi pads will just have to do.
I cleaned up the changing table, laid her down, and got to work. In the midst of it all, a sweet older woman entered the restroom. As she entered the stall I quickly shoved the maxi pad out of sight. I wanted to avoid as many questions as possible. I was able to remove the diaper and clean her up with wet paper towels. I stuck the maxi pad to the inside of her jeans and set her back on the counter to get to work on her hair. About that time, the sweet old lady re-emerged from the bathroom stall. And bless her heart, she wanted to chat with the girls. I made small talk and hoped like hell her eyesight wasn’t strong enough to notice the bits of poop on the top of her head. Like ok lady, thanks for stopping by, but can you move along so I can wash the shit out of her hair?!
It seems I’ve outgrown my Grandma nickname - clearly I do NOT have my shit together. The key here is to improvise. Yeah that’s a lot of what motherhood is like. In fact, it’s probably the key to fooling people into thinking you have it all together- just be willing to improvise, not stress over the situation, and laugh your ass off- even if it’s at yourself. Because shit happens. And as my mom would say, I can’t make this shit up!