Fun with Pee, Parking Fees and Car Keys

Yesterday was a winner. A trifecta of grand proportions. Chalk it up on the 'Best Mom in the World' score board. Buy me a mug. I'm blaming it on lack of sleep and lack of caffeine.

It all started with a doctor's appointment at the ENT's office for my almost 1 year-old. Nice nurses and doctors, cooperative baby. All good, right? So I'm participating in the question and answer session and trying to keep a hold of my squirmy worm. As I'm switching him from front-facing to hugging, from one leg to the other, I notice that his diaper is a little on the full side. Praying for the next interval (you know in between nurse and doctor, then doctor and nurse) so I can change this expanding Huggie before the Hoover Dam spilleth over... it comes to my attention that there is no exam table (what all of us moms use as a changing table at the doctors office...) in this room.  Only chairs. I figure I'm just going to have to wing it, so I fashion my travel changing pad over the two chairs and take a deep breath, preparing myself for the fight of a lifetime with baby boy, who I failed to mention is really a baby alligator. You really should have gloves, rope and tape to change this child's diaper (just kidding social services) because no sooner does his back graze the changing surface and he has flipped himself over with brute force. You need training in WWF to dress or undress baby boy. A helmet would be helpful. Just as I think I'm going to be able to unsnap the onesie, he reaches his chubby little arm up and swats at the large acrylic and metal framed poster of the Eustachian tubes... it swings on the nails. Crap. I guess I'll have to wait this one out. Huggie - I know that you're stretched to the limit, but help a mom out, ok?

When I finally get a break and make it to a ladies room, I am trying to wrangle baby boy into changing position - I see it and feel it. The warmth of holding him has disguised the inevitable. Baby boy pee on me. I was dressed for work. I had to go back after the appointment. Ugh. To make things more interesting, baby boy's cute striped Carter's onesie was soaked from his belly button down. And, as fate would have it (curse you unreliable diaper bag!) I only had a shirt onesie replacement in the backup outfit arsenal. As I'm anticipating the looks I'm going to get while I cart around a 1 year old in sandals and onesie only, I wondered: why don't I carry a back-up outfit. Because I can guarantee that I'd reach in there and pull out a sports bra and one sock, that's why. Thank you to those of you who gave me the standard-issue titled head and I've been there smile in the waiting room.

It's all downhill and breezy in my heels from here, right? No can do. When I have a bad day, it's a colossal, criminally twisted, laugh out loud it's so bad day. I'm waiting in line to exit the parking garage, baby boy has already drifted to sleep and I think, ok, on with our day. I watch the driver in front of me reach out their window and start to hand the attendant his ticket and cash. The scene turns to slow motion as I mouth, Sugar Honey Iced Tea. I don't have any cash. I have .78 cents in my wallet. I'm screwed. I had to ask for a no-money slip. An 'I-am-an-idiot-who-never-carries-cash-and-carries-a-pantless-baby-around-a-hospital' parking IOU. Geesh. This is getting good.

We made it back to daycare for the drop off, I ran home, did a SuperWoman style quick presto-chango out of the pee-pee clothes and back to the office.

5:50 p.m. and I've made it through the day. I'm putting the boys in the car in the daycare parking lot. I put in baby boy, lay my keys on the back dash as usual and strap him in. #1 calls me over to his side to look at a green bug. I shut baby boy's door and walk over to get #1 situated in his booster, and to check out this fascinating bug. I admire the insect, make up a name for it, then pull on the door handle. Why is this door handle sticking?

OMFG - I pulled a Modern Family. I JUST LOCKED MY BABY IN THE CAR and people were judging me. My husband was only mid-way through his long commute. We have no family or friends close by. Damn it. I didn't run around the parking lot screaming and waving my arms like Cam, but I wanted to.

I was going to have to call the police. Thankfully it wasn't 100 degrees or a blizzard outside. Thankfully the two daycare employees left on the premisis helped me not panic, not feel like a complete and total loser and let me borrow a cell phone (you see naturally my purse, phone AND keys all inside the car with the baby.) All the while, my 6 year old is saying with a honest and puzzled look on his face, 'how did you do that, Mom?' Exactly.

The officer was amazingly patient with me. As he was trying to unlock my doors, I was making an attempt at a career in parking lot self-deprecating comedy with comments like, 'Wow, guess I'm not getting mother of the year, huh... heh, heh...' 

Hopefully the rest of the week will be as exciting. I'm going to get a head start by treating myself to a 350 calorie latte, with whip.