Yesterday was a day that could have very easily ended Thelma-and-Louise-style with me driving myself and my daughter OFF A CLIFF. Here follows my advice for going on day outings with your 9-month-old:
DON'T feed her pears for breakfast. Because apparently? Pears are a diuretic. I already KNEW this because back when we were transitioning to formula and rice cereal and Syd was constipated my friend recommended PEAR JUICE to get the POOP going. Apparently, I forgot about this lovely side effect while scooping LOTS OF PEARS into my daughter's pre-outing breakfast yesterday. My penalty? I spent most of the day at gorgeous Huntington Gardens hunched over the stroller changing poopie diapers (as of late she only has two predictable poopie diapers a day. Until I fed her pears and oatmeal for breakfast, that is). We did have some fun looking at carp in the Japanese garden, felt the thrill of crawling all over soft, lovely grass, and nope, Mama did not take a SINGLE PHOTO. The people you really should be feeling bad for at this point are my two companions who had to stand and WATCH most of the day as I changed said poopie diapers. And did I mention that I only brought one extra complete outfit? Which Syd immediately pooped through (after pooping through what she was wearing, that is?). So my daughter spent most of the day in a t-shirt and diaper, until she upchucked on THAT and she then wore a zip-up sweatshirt and diaper to Target, where we had to BUY pants.
Since I was in Target ANYWAY (oh, so sad. You know how I HATE Target, ha ha) I decided to get some of my errands done. Syd is happy in the cart in her floppy seat, chewing on the keys that I rescued from the garbage only the day before*, and so I wander around picking up this and that from my long list of random crap that we need like furniture wipes and bottle liners (ooh! And I found a sippy cup that Syd will drink from! More on that later!!) and all the sudden I realize that I have to go to the bathroom. Like REALLY BAD. And there I am with my kid in the cart – wearing NO PANTS might I add – no stroller, no one to hold her for me, OH THE DRAMA. I decide to chance it. I can't make it back to the car to get the stroller … I haven't gone potty since that morning (it's now 6-ish p.m.). So I grab the diaper bag and my kid and leave the rest behind and into the Target bathroom we go. I figure I'll just hold her while I go and somehow jimmy my pants on and off and it'll be FINE!
Until I realize that I'm wearing a belt. AND button fly jeans. AWESOME.
I somehow get my pants off and sit down without dropping anything pertinent (like my keys or iPhone or ya know, MY KID) in the toilet. Soon it becomes clear that there is no way EVER that I'm going to be able to wipe and get my pants back on with my 22-ish pound baby in my arms. She's still happy with the keys so I grab the changing pad out of the diaper bag and set her down sans pants AND socks on it and PRAY that she doesn't see something worth crawling for in the 30 seconds it takes me to get reassembled. Aside from one foot touching the bathroom floor, she stayed still THANK YOU GOD (but for the record, all that she was wearing, the changing pad AND the diaper bag took a spin in the washing machine. But did she get a bath last night? NOPE. Did I take away the germy keys? NO WAY. I'm waiting for my Mother Of The Year Award to come in the mail soon).
AND SO, Manda's day-trip advice:
1. Do not feed the kid pears.
2. Bring more than one extra outfit with you, dummy.
3. Go to the bathroom whilst people you know and trust are around to hold your kid for you.
4. Only wear stretchy pants. Everywhere.
It doesn't help that I also did two other errands because I was trying to miss evening traffic. I hit The Children's Place and was SEVERELY disappointed with their selection (uhm, no PANTS? Only shorts and frilly skirts and minature CAPRI PANTS? REALLY?). I did buy three pairs of footie pjs but I really don't like the prints on any of them … I ended up buying a repeat of a pair we already have just in a larger size. I also went to Old Navy because it was close by and grabbed socks (I've been squishing the poor kid's feet into 0-6 month size socks in lieu of BUYING NEW ONES) and onesies. After that the only thing to do was drive through Carl's Jr., scarf a chicken club sandwich with evil things like barbeque sauce and CHEESE AND BACON, get utterly and totally lost while trying to get back on the freeway home, fiddle with my iPhone GPS WHILE DRIVING and get HONKED AT, finally figure it out and get home and do a huge load of poopie laundry.
Like I said? Driving off a cliff seemed like a good alternative to LIVING ANOTHER DAY by the end of yesterday.
*This is how my keys ended up in the outside garbage can: On Saturday I spent the ENTIRE day at a fundraising car wash. Like 5 straight hours washing cars. After that I took a carload of high school kids to In-N-Out. When I got home I had a huge pile of In-N-Out trash to put in the garbage and you guessed it … my keys in my hand. I opened the garbage, dumped in the lot, then ran directly to the shower and never even THOUGHT about my keys until the following morning, when I could not find them ANYWHERE. And no, I did not disinfect them in the slightest after rescuing them from the trash can where we also throw all the dirty diapers!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME! Too bad they are the only thing that will keep Sydney occupied for more than 11.784 seconds. YUMMY.