Supermom

Every once in awhile, I think parents have moments when they feel pretty dang heroic. Maybe you managed to carry all the groceries into the house AND your baby, at the same time. Or maybe you successfully navigated your way through an intense tantrum, or won that power struggle, or figured out the reason why your child was so mysteriously upset. Today, I had a moment of parental heroism.

I had just put the laundry in the dryer and had approximately 50 minutes before it was done to run an errand. We have communal laundry facilities, and I hate having my laundry moved by other people (even though I've totally done it before myself), so I wanted to be back on time. I only needed one thing at the grocery store, so I thought "I'll be in and out, no problem." Ha!

First, I realized that Livia was hungry, so I quickly fed her, watching the clock all the while, and then buckled her into her carseat. On the way to the grocery store I was debating whether it was faster to use a grocery cart or just click her carseat into her stroller. Grocery cart, I decided. So I pulled her out of the carseat and saw a huge, orange glob where she had been sitting. Oh yes, she had had a blowout. So there I was, in a grocery store parking lot, holding an extremely poopy baby, trying to figure out how in the world I was going to take care of this.

I decided the trunk was my best option for a makeshift changing table, so I cleared it out (while holding her and trying desperately not to get poop all over my shirt) and laid out her changing pad. I don't even want to think about how weird it must have looked to all the other shoppers to see a little head poking out of my trunk (I was parked directly in front of the entrance, so everyone passed me). Now, I've dealt with a lot of blowouts in the past 7 months, but this was one of those really bad ones...the ones where you usually just stick them straight into the bath. When I laid her down it went all the way up her back, almost to her neck. And then, of course, she started wiggling and it got on her arms, and legs...and it was just really, really awful. 10 minutes and 20+ wipes later, I had a clean but stark naked baby in my trunk. I always have a spare outfit in my diaper bag, but I hadn't switched it out since Sunday, so Livia got to wear a nice sundress around the grocery store, even though it was sleeveless and it's the end of November. Thank heavens we live in California and it's not too cold.

As I stood there, I realized that I was clean, Livia was clean, and the trunk was still clean. That was when I had my moment of parental heroism.

Now, I know you're thinking "Um, Mary? You do realize that you simply changed a diaper, don't you?" But hey, I successfully handled what could have been a serious disaster, rescued Livia from herself, AND still got back just after the dryer finished its cycle! Yep. I felt pretty amazing.