Of Attitudes and diapers: both poopy

So, you know Ashlyn’s tendency towards being strong willed. Sometimes her attitude is downright sh… crappy. Today her diaper was full of it as well.

To be fair we have been on the go for the past couple of days. And we have been busy. Physical stuff like walking, hiking, running, geocaching. Her sleep hasn’t been able to keep up and it started affecting her attitude last night. So, this story really starts last night.

We went to some friends’ house for dinner. Almost immediately she becomes whiny and clingy. They even feed her some of her favorite food: mac and cheese, raisins, crackers, pears… This should have placated her. No. She’s whiny through dinner so much so that our conversation halts continuously for me to try to beg and plead with her to just eat her food. Please! I wasn’t even using my nice-mommy-in-public voice. She wants down. Not a chance in a house that’s fit for a newborn, not a toddler who’s movements tend to be described as a kangaroo on crack.

We’re smart parents though and take our pack-n-play with us wherever we go. We may have a toddler, but that’s not going to cramp our style… I think. We did get asked, “so…you’re staying in a hotel tonight right?” We explained that if she didn’t go to sleep at that very moment somebody was going to lose an eyeball. The rest of the night was enjoyable. Until we got to the hotel room and it was actually time for her to sleep for the night.  It wasn’t enjoyable anymore for a couple more hours.

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This morning she woke up in a happy mood and we even went swimming. All was perfect for our lunch date with my step sister. Until we got to the restaurant. We should have known that not feeding her breakfast wasn’t going to make for a happy child. Did we become idiots for the morning?

We didn’t even make it into the restaurant before the fussiness began. And then when we sat down we could do nothing to either a) make her happy or b) make her eat. The only thing she would pick at was banana pudding and biscuits. At this point I didn’t care, I just wanted her to shut up. Piling her plate even higher with pudding and biscuits didn’t help.

Old women would pass the table on their way to the buffet and play peek a boo with her, which would make her smile for all of 2.6 seconds. I was too embarrassed to look around the room to see what other diners were thinking.

AND THEN. To make matters worse…she gets quiet…and starts straining…and making funny faces. And the smell begins to waft into the air. How far? I don’t know, I don’t care. I just want to get out by this point. The waitress is nice enough to bring the check but then she forgets that we exist. I try to stare her down, the only time I look away from our table, but she avoids us for the next eternity. The smell? I don’t know. She’s talking to a table about how to get to Atlanta. People, I’ll give you our navigational system, just give us back our waitress. I even try to pay at the front but get rejected there too. By the time the waitress finishes with us my head is spinning, literally, from fumes and frustration, and all I can think about is where am I going to change this diaper?

The bathrooms are small and have no baby changing station, which should be illegal by the way. I don’t care how true to the time period you’re trying to be. It’s raining outside so changing her in the truck with the tailgate open isn’t the greatest option either. Oh, and it’s cold. However, we choose to escape the restaurant. Let her deal with the cold. I am so glad that Du stepped in to help. Have I mentioned that he’s the greatest man in the world? This was a two person diaper let’s just say. And it got on her shirt. And the truck. And the wipes container. And up her back. And it’s the kind that doesn’t liked to be wiped off. Did I mention it was cold and raining? I’m still glad I was outside though in our own little cold world. Can you imagine what would have happened had I tried to do this by myself on the nice little couch in the women’s restroom? I think I would have actually cried.

We make our escape after dumping the bio-hazardous bomb into one of the restaurant’s back trash cans. I’m sorry to the waiter that has to empty that. There was no way we could keep that in the truck with us, even with the scented little bags we have to hide smells like that in.

We’re back home now and she’s asleep in her own bed. Lord willing she’ll catch up on all the sleep that she’s missed the last four days and let us sleep in…until at least 7:30…