The Public Pee Pee

I do not dig germs.  I am almost a germophobe – ALMOST.  Public bathrooms make me squeamish even under the best possible circumstances (ie: freshly cleaned, no other participants in the communal etc) but the minute you add a toddler into the equation, shit just got real.

I am quite sure that any other visitor to any ladies room where Shorty #2 and I have made a visit would think I am COMPLETELY off my rocker.  From the minute we enter until at last we walk out, I throw a non-stop barrage of don’t-touch-thats, don’t-look-in-theres and don’t-sit-anywheres.  All of this could simply be avoided by the use of haz-mat suits but since those are not commonplace in the shopping mall/ restaurant/ airport we are visiting we’ll just have to do our best with toilet paper and hand sanitizer.

Why is it that bathrooms, especially public bathrooms are such a fascination for a toddler?  I know, I know.  I get the humour behind poop, bum and fart jokes but honestly, the depository for feminine products is not a cool mailbox. “IT’S GROSS” I scream the minute a finger goes near the lid.

And don’t even get me started on the automatic flush toilets.  Why do they insist on flushing when you sit down rather than stand up?  For a Shorty, the moment when they, at last are able to sit on the toilet after all the running and rushing across the aforesaid public place to find the bathrooms (which are always conveniently located at the other end of the mall).  Imagine:

Shorty #2: “I have to go.”

Me: “Are you sure?”  *This is always necessary as many public bathroom visits are merely sightseeing tours into the unknown.

Shorty #2: “I gotta go BADLY.” (She crosses her legs.)

Me: “OK, lets go”

Shorty #2: “I can’t hold it.”

Me: “HOLD IT.”

And then I scoop her up and hightail it to the loo.  We get in breathless and dancing, waiting for a stall that is not either occupied, pre-fouled and/ or unflushed.  Finally, we make it in.  Every centimetre of exposed toilet seat covered with paper (for protection) and the Shorty is raised up to take her place on the throne – just in time for the automatic flusher to let ‘er rip.  Shorty shrieks thinking her little bum is about to be sucked down the drain.  Tears, turmoil and fear stop the bathroom experience in its tracks!  Then you get to dry your hands in the supersonic tornadic hand dryers from hell.  The whole mess is terrifying really.

Not to mention the problem of scale.  At home we are outfitted with step stools and special toilet seats to help with the necessary *ahem* ergonomics of a two year old using a toilet.  In a public potty, all bets are off that the angles are right and you’re lucky to not end up with pee shooting out of the toilet at YOU.  No kidding.  This happened.  In a restaurant.  On my designer shoes.  It was awesome (in a not very awesome way).

So the morale of the story?  Do anything and everything you can to HOLD IT ’til you get home!

 

Holy Shit!

So, you may recall that we are deep into Potty Training time with Shorty #2.  We were on a roll, it was going great.  Until tonight.  Tonight we suffered… a set back.  A small set back.  Ok, it was more like one small setback and another, well, much larger set back.

You can picture it.  A lovely long weekend getaway.  A nice dinner in a sweet local restaurant.  Dappled sunshine reflecting off the crystal, jazz playing in the background, a nice wine ordered.  #2 fresh from a nap, a swim and a bath ready to face the evening as she had many times before.  The only difference this time is that she was diaperless.  All was going swimmingly until #2 had a little accident.  #2 had a #2.  No harm, no foul.  We swept her up into the restaurant loo for a quick clean up and wardrobe change and no one was the wiser.

The dinner carried on.  Lovely, delicious, delightful.  Everyone laughing and enjoying.  Our girls befriended the other little girls at the next table and they had fun playing tag on the patio and through the gardens.  All fine until #2 came running over to me with a look of horror in her eyes.  “Mama, I gotta poo.”  “Hold it!” I cried.  But it was too late.  Way too late.

This wasn’t just a poop accident.  This was like a “Night of the Living Dead” sort of explosion.  Poop everywhere.  J scooped her up to rush her into the bathroom, poop dropping everywhere.  I was like the “Cleaner” from Pulp Fiction – trying to erase all the evidence, the poop that had dropped out of #2’s skirt all over the patio floor, before any of the other diners had noticed.

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Yeah, they noticed.  By the time we all returned to the table with the now-fresh-as-a-daisy-thanks-to-the-WHOLE-pack-of-Huggies-wipes Shorty #2, all eyes were on us.  I tried to smile and keep up a brave face, but as the aforementioned kids from the other table were herded back to the side of their “single-child” parents with their judgy eyes pointed in our direction, I could hear the disdain in their eye-rolls;  “I would never let my kid poop in such a fine restaurant!” and “That will NEVER happen to me.”  I’m here to prove that this was one of those days where what I wanted, preferred or felt was the cool or OK was NOT in the cards.  I had no control in this situation and neither will you Judgy Judgersons!  It  was time to make a quick exit.  You just try and keep up a brave face in moments such as these.  “Yes, my kid just SHAT on your patio and we’ll have another bottle of that pinot noir.”   Needless to say, we tipped VERY well and hightailed it out of there.

Maybe next time we’ll just get a sitter…

Going Diaperless

Woohoo!  #2 is on the potty training kick FOR REALS!  I am so freaking excited.  Can you tell?  No more diapers, no more wipes and for the LOVE of GOD – NO MORE STANKY DIAPER CHAMP.  That thing was a blessing when we were dealing with tiny little baby poops but it is no match for what a toddler can throw at it.

I’m a big believer in letting the kid decide when its time to go diaperless and #2 is finally there this week.  After 6 months, she’s keen to wear the Minnie Mouse panties and be free.  She’s just 3, but she’s pretty good at knowing when she needs to “go”.  Last night she kinda forgot and we had a major accident.  Lovely, charming, delightful – poop everywhere!  Yet, we shall persevere.  We will endure and stand up to these messy incidents looking ever to the future and a diaperless lifestyle.  One where there’s no need to carry a diaper bag.  One where a cute clutch purse is all I need to carry on an outing with the whole family.  How exciting!!!

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Don’t get me wrong.  I loved the baby times.  I remember those days of breast feeding and high chairs, baby gates and bottles fondly.  But the day that I was able to pack up all the gear – necessary and TOTALLY unnecessary and share it with a friend expecting her first little bundle, was a day I will never forget.  We cleared out half of our storeroom in under 10 minutes.  Yippee!

I know, I know.  It goes fast.  I shouldn’t wish for time to move forward and live in the now.  I do.  I am.  But man, the clutter of baby gear is one aspect of parenthood that I am happy to bid a fond farewell.

Its My Potty…

vectorstock_939376Shorty #2 is almost two and a half and its getting to be potty training time again.  Shorty #1 was late to the Potty Party.  She didn’t dig it.  Personally, I think it took too much time out of her already packed schedule to sit on the potty and wait for nature to um… take its course.  So she rocked pull-ups for months and months.  I tried everything; brand new Princess Panties – loved them until they got wet.  Incentive chart – fun for about the first five minutes.  Incentive chart with toys still in the box waiting for when she had 10 successful potty attempts – yeah, she forgot.  Nothing worked.  Finally one day not long before her 4th birthday she just decided that that was it – she would use the bathroom.  And she did!  That was it.

This suited me perfectly because I am not down with the “accidents”.  Diaper changing is OK.  I guess I’m used to that.  But the poops in the baths, in undies and elsewhere just gives me the creeps.  Shudder.  I have resolved the fact that I am a bit of a germo-phobe and the lack of controlled circumstances surrounding “accidents” creates too many opportunities for hazardous waste issues.  There’s no containment and a toddler with poopy legs will not stand still long enough for sufficient wiping, so you end up chasing said toddler around the house with the wipes, tormented by the fact that poop is now flying everywhere.  Ack!  Nightmare!

So now #2 is expressing interest in the potty and I’m starting to freak out a little.  Everytime we’re out, she says she has to poop and wants to use the public washroom.  Ummm, yeah, well, I think you can IMAGINE how I feel about that.  But what can I do, I need to encourage her enthusiasm even though I know she just wants to check out the facilities, waste a pile of toilet paper and then flush it away.  So in we go, wishing I had haz-mat suits for us, piling the seat with layers of toilet paper and seat covers, indulging her whim and then dutifully scrubbing both our hands on the way out with a last minute dash of hand sanitizer for good measure.

Today we decided that maybe its time to retire the diapers and graduate Shorty #2 to pull-ups so she can be the master of her own domain.  Am I ready for this?  Do we have enough hand sanitizer and antiseptic cleansers for what is sure to come next? I guess I’m headed to the drug store to stock up.  In the meantime, wish us luck and send Purel.

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