Today was one of those days that test a mother�s resolve.
After leaving work, I hurried home, scurried around frantically throwing things together, and got everything ready for B and I to head to the beach this afternoon. There is a brief window of time in which it is possible to actually get a parking place at the park on a warm sunny day like this, and I didn�t want to miss it.
I arrived at the day care with just minutes to spare, gathered B�s things, and got her changed into her swimsuit. Before we left, I asked her no fewer than 3 times if she needed to use the potty, and each time she adamantly said NO. She didn�t need to go potty. She just went potty. Okay, fine.
We left the daycare and had been driving about 2 minutes, and she says, rather urgently, �Mama, I need to go potty!� I kept driving and told her to hold it, because we�d be at the beach in 10 minutes and she could go there, trying to keep my frustration in check. A minute later, she started sounding more desperate. �Mama, I need to go poo poo!!� Great. I asked her if she thought she could hold it until we got to the beach, and she sort of whimpered that she could. �Try, honey. We�ll be there very soon.�
We reached the point where our house and the beach were equal distances from where we were. But I knew. I knew. If I turned up the hill to go home so she could use the bathroom it would mean we�d miss our window. By the time we came down the hill and weaved through the nightmarish traffic, there�d be no way to get a parking place.
So I gambled. I turned left, toward the beach. It was in sight�..the turn off was only blocks away, and then the urgency in her voice returned, only times 100. �Mama, I need to go potty NOW!!� �Mama, the poo poo is coming out!! It�s coming out right now! Waaaaaaaahhhhh!!! The poo poo is coming out, Mama!�
Trying not to panic, I figured there was only one course of action I could possibly take at this point. I did a u-turn and headed back the other way, in the direction of our house. If what she said was true, there was going to be a big mess to clean up, and there was no way I was doing it at the beach.
�Mama, I�m all done now�It�s all out now.� Visions of toddler poop smeared into her swimsuit, seeping through to her car seat flooded my brain. Funny, but I didn�t smell anything. But I kept asking her, �Are you sure? Did the poo poo really come out? Is it all over you now?� �Uh huh.� �Really?� �Yes, Mama.�
I tore into the driveway, jumped out, unbuckled her seat belt, and prepared myself for the worst. And there was�..nothing. I said, �B, you told me the poo poo came out! Where is it? There�s no poo poo.� And she just said, �Well, Mama, I�ll thought it was coming out. I�ll just go on our potty here and then we can go to the beach!� So we ran inside, and she did, in fact, spend 10 minutes on the potty. But our afternoon beach trip was an impossibility now, and I had to explain that to her, which went over about as well as you might expect.
It�s just one of those things. One of those unpredictable, frustrating, plan-derailing kind of things. And though I�m sure I don�t need to say it, it bears remembering: raising kids is not for the squeamish. Because one of these days, the poo poo really is going to come out, and you can bet we won�t be anywhere near a bathroom. It�s inevitable.
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