October 10, 2016
You know the routine when you are trying to get out the door with kids: Where is the other shoe? What did you do with your jacket? We should have left five minutes ago...go go go! Into your seats. PLEASE get into your seats!
This wasn't one of those days though. It was actually relatively smooth sailing for this momma ship (also known as the typical mom van taxi) and her then-three-kiddos getting out the door. That is, until we arrived at our destination of our chiropractic doctor's office just five minutes down the road.
I click the button to slide open the van door and a stench hits my nose so foul that I want to gag up the snack bar I just shoved down on our drive here. I have no idea how I did not smell it while it was in progress just seconds before in the seat right behind me! The one year old has a poop. Of course she does, right now at the worst possible time. Isn't that motherhood law?
It isn't until I get my little ducks in a row inside the building and I sign us in that I realize just how bad this situation is. Not just poop....leaky poop. The teething molars extra gross poop. Explosion poop that is now on my shirt sleeves. The I'm-so-unprepared type poop because we are past the newborn explosions by a whole year! So I roll up my sleeves — literally — because holding her got poop on me and I got to work. The receptionist got us some paper towels (because I forgot a changing pad) to lay her down right on the office floor and a grocery bag for the offending diaper and clothes (geesh, I'm unprepared!). It's a good thing the waiting room was free of other people, because it stunk. Like whoa.
What I don't understand is, how did no poop get on her pants? Again being unprepared, I don't have a clean change of clothes for her so I run out to the van searching for anything to take the place of her soiled shirt. I find a toddler sized jacket and rush back inside, hoping I can get all this done before it is our turn to be seen by the chiropractor.
While I'm changing her and trying to keep contaminants contained, the receptionist gives my two older kids paper and markers to entertain them. Which, I am super grateful for because it takes a village, right? That is, until I look over to see my three year old coloring on the chairs in red marker (his favorite color). He knows coloring is for paper only! My one year old is now clean and freed, so I finish making sure all poop remnants are bagged and sanitize my hands before tackling the next mess. Thank goodness for baby wipes, they got those red car drawings right off the seats. Whew. Of course, as soon as that is clean my three year old dumps out all the business cards from the counter onto the floor. Seriously? And then, as one last jab to my patience, the one year old empties a cup of complimentary water onto the floor. More paper towels, please.
In case you were wondering, yes, I did get everything cleaned up before our appointment in the span of about ten minutes. Self high five.
The only saving grace to this fiasco of a visit was the receptionist who is a mom of many grown children herself. Understanding was in her sympathetic eyes instead of judgment as she passed me supplies for our messes times three. She understood it was one of those days. The kind of days where moments test us to the limit, where we wonder if our kids are purposely trying to break us down to tears in public humiliation. So, momma, take a deep breath and know you aren't alone. Grab your baby wipes, paper towels, change of clothes for the whole family, and keep an “Emergency Poop kit” in the van, like me. You just never know when you will need it.