Me. I am officially the Worst Mother Ever.Things have been a little, er, distracted 'round these parts, and I left for lunch with my friend Nicole and her four-month-old daughter Emily having forgotten a bib and a nursing shield. At least I remembered the baby food and my boobs.
It was a fine lunch, as Emily just kind of sat on her mother's lap while Nicole ate and chatted (did I ever have that kind of baby? I don't think so) and Willow dribbled only a little food on her shirt and was otherwise quite content stealing bites of my tofu. Nursing her was an exercise in feeling embarrassed, especially since Nicole remembered her nursing shield and was a shining example of motherhood, but nothing I'm not fairly used to by this point.
But while nursing Willow, I noticed that she smelled of poop--she must have pooped while sitting in the high chair. No problem--I did remember diapers, at least. The restaurant did not have changing tables, and amazingly enough this was my first time struggling with a problem that mothers have wrangled for ages--changing a baby on the floor of a bathroom. Ewww.
But that was only the beginning of the Ewww, because Willow's diaper had leaked. And just this week I cleaned out her diaper bag and found the change of clothes that had been sitting in the bottom of the bag since June because I've never had to change her clothes while we were out in all that time and so like an idiot I removed it and so after changing her and wiping her down as best I could I had to put her back into her poopy pants.
I wash our hands at the sink, feeling irresponsible and ill-prepared and just generally like a crappy mother, and I go to leave the bathroom only to discover that I can't. We're stuck. The door has jammed and since I'm holding a baby and can't exactly use her as a battering ram, I can't get out. I shove against the door with my foot, with my shoulder, and make banging noises to see if someone will come get me but the music is too loud and finally I end up calling Nicole for help.
I'm ridiculously flustered at this point, and Nicole asks what's wrong, and I explain about the poopy pants and what an awful mother I am, and she waves her hand and says, "Oh, I did that yesterday."
As Dave pointed out, true or not, it was exactly the right thing to say.
7 comments:
I have been there!!!! I managed to have an outfit in the diaper bag-- but she outgrew it months ago; I had forgotten to put a correct size in there. Then there's the time that I didn't have a season appropriate outfit.. Just today I left the house w/out the diaper bag and Ms. Destiny SOAKED herself.
Glad your friend had the perfect thing to say!
I think any mother who hasn't been there yet will soon. Oh, those moments are horrible.
It happens to the best! :)
Willow is soo cute; so much hair on her little head!
Ah, you're so not a bad mother! I agree, we've all been there, more than once. Our babies are only about 2 weeks apart, so I think it shows what a good mother you are that you've managed to reach almost 11 months without those things happening!!
The competition in this category is so tight, you never gonna win!
Love your posts - you have such a wonderful sense of humor! Cheers from another WME - once I left the house without baby food and baby bottle, but with a hungry baby.
Awww...I'm a shining example of motherhood? That's so flattering. What I didn't tell you is that I never even thought to carry around an extra pair of clothes in the first place! So you're actually one step ahead of me.
You forgot to mention that creepy guy at the table next to us who kept making comments while we were nursing...What was his deal?
Tee hee hee :)
See, this is why I never do anything without my car. My car is my mini-house, or rather my maxi-diaper bag. I do recall one time this happened to us and I plopped the kid on a raincoat in her carseat, drove to a K Mart and bought her a new pair of pants. That was not a pleasant experience, but I didn't feel too bad about it because it was a K Mart and everybody smelled funny. But again, I had my car. I am not built for urban parenting.
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