I'm One of Those People

Well, today I did something rather uncouth. I changed my son’s poopy diaper on the floor in the clothing department in Target. Let me paint you a picture of how this went down. Both of my kids are pretty much out of clothes to wear. Everything is either too small or too hot to wear in these Spring temperatures. I took both kids to Target this morning. We stopped to run an errand on the way so by the time we arrived it was lunchtime. Also, Dagny had to pee. Have I mentioned we went cold turkey on diapers about a week ago? Yeah. So when she says, “Pee pee” I say, “How high?” Or something like that. We visited the family restroom. Thank you Target in Harmar for providing a family restroom, I love you guys for that! Next up, the snack bar. We ate lunch and made friends with another little family sitting nearby. Finally, around 30 minutes after we arrived we managed to actually start shopping. We cut through the $1 Spot or whatever they call it and then beelined for the kids clothes. Clearance signs were everywhere and my head was spinning. I had Dagny on a leash that was tied to the stroller so she could walk. As I perused the sale racks as best I could given the circumstances, she methodically removed clothing from any rack she could get her hands on. And threw them on the floor. Approximately every 10 seconds she would start fussing, whining, crying, whatever you want to call it because she had either thrown her ball out of range or she wanted off the leash. I was finding it incredibly hard to concentrate because at the same time, Bode was squealing. Then it happened. I heard the telltale rumble-squirting that means it’s time for another trip to the potty. Argh! I had just gotten to the damned clothes department! I started whipping through the clothes as fast as I could. Almost as if it was a competition, Dagny stepped up her game with the removing clothes and throwing them on the floor. She also started shoving random clothes into the stroller basket. Somewhere in the midst of replacing the clothes, I completely forgot Bode had just dropped the atom bomb in his pants. Suddenly he was on pace for a complete meltdown at any given moment and I remembered! SON OF A…! So I said screw it. I laid him out on the floor and changed his diaper, using up the last 3 wet wipes I had in the diaper bag. Meanwhile some lady is trying to lean around my stroller to get to the clearance rack I’ve take up residence next to and Dagny is removing clothes from hangers like it’s her job. I get Bode put back together and some how finagle Dagny into riding in the stroller. At this point I realize we need to head home because it’s pretty much naptime and I’m entering the danger zone. So I race around, throwing items willy nilly into the basket. Finally we’re out of there and I’ve been watching Dags because she’s on the brink of falling asleep in the stroller.We make it to the car before she nods off (WIN!) and I lift her up to put her in the car seat. She is soaked. Poor kiddo was covered in pee. She was too tired to tell me she had to go, I imagine and just emptied her bladder in the stroller seat. The $200 stroller seat. Deep breaths. DEEP BREATHS. I changed her into some clean panties right there in the parking lot but unfortunately I had no replacement shirt. She was in a dress and all I had in the diaper bag were a pair of jeans. So I folded up her dress, plopped her in the car seat, and off we went. She fell asleep on the way home, which means there’s a 50-50 chance that naptime is a bust. I managed to get her home, carry her to bed and even get a diaper over her panties without her waking up. I’m thinking to myself that I’m home free, so I go downstairs to get Bode ready for HIS nap. I get everything unloaded from the car and the cold stuff put away. I take Bode upstairs, zip him into the woombie and settle in to the rocking chair to nurse him. Just as he starts to nod off Dagny starts wailing in her room. At this point I’m pretty sure Bode is asleep but it’s likely he’ll wake right up if I detach him from the boob and try to lay him down. Dags is escalating so I take a chance. He seems OK so I go into her room and she’s a freaking mess. She won’t even let me touch her and she is crying hard. Finally I just scoop her up and try to get her to come back to reality. Her diaper is wet. I take it off and she’s still sobbing and shaking. At this point I’m starting to freak out. Did a bug crawl in her ear? Did a deadly spider bite her somewhere? WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER!? So I just start grilling her. Do you have to go potty? Do you have an owie? Are you scared? Do you have an owie? Do something hurt? What happened? Do you have an owie? Are you hungry? DING DING DING. She says yes. She wants milk. At this point, I know I have to calm her down because we have to walk right past Bode’s room and in her hysterical state there’s no way he was sleeping through that. So I start talking to her about different kinds of food and any time I mention something other than milk she starts spiraling back into hysterics. This kid is a wreck. I need to get her the damned milk. So I just walk as fast as I can past Bode’s room and down the stairs. Right about the time I’m handing her a donut hole I hear Bode start to cry…

So you’re thinking about having a second baby are ya? I give you 4 months before you’re changing his or her diaper on the floor in the middle of Target.