Aw Poop!

Today I had the blessing of staying home from work, although it wasn't as a result of something good. My mother in law cares for My Little One while we work. My mother in law is ill, so I had to stay home to care for My Little One (darn).

My Little One and I head out the door at 3:00 to pick up My Eldest from school. On the way out, I grab the diaper bag, my purse, the Barbie pool bag that Friend From Virginia handed down to us (thanks again y'all!). Arrive to the school by 3:10, wait in the pick up line, collect said Eldest and head downtown to swim lessons.

I've only taken My Eldest to swim lessons once or twice before, so I always get lost going to the facility. The swim center is at a major hospital here in Dallas, so it's literally a college campus area down there. Combine my lack of sense of direction, rush hour and bad memory and well...it's a formula for disaster.

I circle around twice trying to find the familiar street and parking lot. Suddenly, something overcomes me and I nearly pass out. No kidding. I smell poop. Special poop. It's poop that's been in the making for a good long while. It's fermented and ripe. I had to roll down the windows so I could quit suffocating. My Little One had soiled her diaper and all I could think was mean thoughts. This rank reminder of motherhood kept swirling around my nairs; it was all I could to do get to the swim center.

I find it without having to circle a third time. My Eldest is giggling and making fun of My Little One. I said, Oh Little One -- *that* is *rank*! Eldest giggles out the question, "what is rank, mommy?" I tell her the definition. She registers it in her vocabulary repertoir. (Ahh -- my little language sponge. Love it! She's just like me. *preen*)

I planned to take the girls into the swim facility, change diaper on baby then get big sister ready for swimming. Best laid plans...what's that saying? It applies here. As soon as I pick up the baby.....squish. I close my eyes.

To Eldest I say, "uhhh, I think mommy's going to change the diaper here." Yeah. The diaper isn't the only thing that needed changing. We ended up throwing THE WHOLE OUTFIT into the dumpster. There was warm baby poop everywhere. Oh it's so disgusting. I feel dirty just typing it here. Poor Eldest. I'm trying to get help from her. I ask her to hand me a wipe at a time. She doesn't get it. So I'm barking at her. She gets more flustered and therefore less helpful. Little One is crying and squirming dirty nasty ass all over the changing pad. I am dropping wipe after soiled wipe on the pavement. Eldest can't get over that part. She keeps asking me quesitons unrelated to her task. I continue to bark at her. She continues to get uneasy. Bad, bad ju-ju.

As always, we manage. Little one is now dressed in a onesie and her tennis shoes. Looked totally funny. She's much happier though. She's the only one happy. Changing this diaper must've taken 15 mintues. Now we're almost late to the swim class. Why can't things EVER go the way I plan them??

Fast forward to after class. We are walking out to the parking lot to head home. Everyone's recovered. Plop, drip I feel on my shoulder. I stop walking. "Eldest," I beckon, as I turn my back to her, "did a bird just poop on me?"

She busts out laughing. "Yes, mommy! Ewww gross!!"

I nod my head and continue walking. A bird shat on me. It shat on my favorite Duran Duran t-shirt. What a perfect way to end the swim class -- the same way it started -- shitty.