Poop Happens.

 Here I was bragging in that last post about how I'm a natural at being a baby mom again and then I go and make a rookie mistake. Yesterday I drove 20 minutes to the Millcreek library for a writing group and the instant we sat down for the meeting, Hollie started making that face. The poop face. The one where her cheeks puff out a little, she turns beet red and looks like she's concentrating on the most important decision of her life. That is the moment I made the "I forgot to pack wipes" face. I assured myself it would be okay, I could easily wet some paper towels and still get the job done. 

But the Millcreek library only has hand dryers. 

I pulled party streamer lengths of that cheap one-ply to wet under the sink and laid my baby on the changing table. The toilet paper was useless. It just crumbled into little bits until it looked like I was just spreading cottage cheese all over her tush. I would've worried about the woman in the stall hearing my grumbling, but she was also weirdly grumbling to herself. Apparently, we were both having a "moment" in the bathroom. The wad of T.P. just wasn't cutting it; I needed more. So holding my diaperless baby away from my body and chanting, "Please, don't pee! Please, don't pee!" I walked back to the stall for more. After getting her as clean as I possibly could with the crummy cheese wipe, I wrapped her back into a fresh diaper and shook off the stress of the last seven minutes. Just as I was finishing up, another woman walked in and said, "What a CUTE baby!" 

And I chuckled. Those last few minutes were not very cute to me, lady!