Getting It Together

I think I got over my Grinch-like feelings. Mostly at least. I've started the Christmas shopping and I am about 75% done. Getting a few more things on my lunch break today. I still don't know what to buy for the husband, he hasn't given me any ideas.

This weekend I am baking cookies, seeing Santa and wrapping gifts. Getting my shit together. It's about time.

Bah-Humbug

This is likely going to be a negetive post, so if you don't want to hear my negetivity, just stop reading now.

 

I am not in the Christmas spirit. At all. This is not me. I usually love it. I think I am stressed and a little depressed this time around. Why? There are so many factors going on here, it's not even funny.

 

Christmas is 10 days away and I have not yet bought a single gift. I go to a store, then walk around aimlessly and walk out the door with nothing. My Christmas spirit is gone. I think I have begun to loathe the fact that Christmas is about gifts. There's nothing I want for Christmas. There are a few things I need, but all are over $100 and it's just rediculous of me to expect someon to get me anything over $100. If you asked me what my favorite Christmas gift of all time was, I could not give you an answer. My Christmas memories are not of gifts, but of good times with my family. Memories of finding a surprise in my shoes on St. Nick Day (and the excitement had absolutely nothing to do with what was actually left in my shoes). Memories of hearing bells outside and a jolly old man coming to the door (later I learned it was the neighbor guy from across the street). Watching my Mother prepare the Christmas feast and having all my aunts and uncles and cousins come over to eat the glorious feast. Memories of my Uncle John reading the Night Before Christmas while the adults sip their cocktails and the kids sit on the floor in front of him. THAT is what Christmas is to me.

 

This year I have been told what to do. Here are some examples.

• "Tell me what you want for Christmas." Money to pay the bills. Next.
• "What does Jesse want for Christmas?" Um, he can't even talk. He'd probably be happy with a bottle of Ranch dressing.
• "You are assigned to make peanut butter cookies for Christmas because last year there were duplicates." Are you freaking serious? I have been assigned a cookie? And peanut butter cookies? Those aren't even a Christmas cookie. I have an arsenal of Christmas cookies and you "assign" me peanut butter cookies? WTF?
• "We are starting the festivities at 1pm." Awesome, that's right at nap time. Didn't we learn our lesson at Thanksgiving?
• "Just get my kids a gift card." Ok, great idea, so this holiday is about gifts, but I am not even giving them a gift to open? Perfect. This is essentually just giving money away. How fun.

I suppose I could go on, but what's the point. This paints a picture already, does it not?

There are so many things I want to do. But I just don't have the motivation to do anything and no money to even do it. My goal here is to get all this off my chest and get going on some things, even if it's just cutting snowflakes out of copy paper.

Proud Momma

At the beginning of November, I posted a blog called Communication Breakdown. Jesse has made so much progress since that post! At Thanksgiving, he learned "sit down", go figure. He also learned help, stuck, milk (not mo), nigh-nigh, mine, and probably some other words that are not coming to mind right now. I am a very proud mother, he's doing so well!

Over the weekend something magical happened. Well, maybe not quite magical, but special. Jesse was playing with one of the tools we use to teach him to blow, a whistle, and he blew in it! I was so overwhelmed with joy that I even got teary, but didn't cry. He repeated this feat again by blowing in the harmonica! It's not a very strong blow, but it's a blow! He knows how to do it and he's getting results by the sounds the whistle and harmonica make.

This makes me realize how a simple task for some kids is a huge milestone for others. I wanted to tell the world... Jesse can blow! But to most people, that means nothing. Even people we know. I'd have to explain, so that just takes the fun and excitement out of it. I did share with a few people who would get it, and that was good enough for me.

Thanksgiving

First, a Paul update:
We went to the doctor on Wednesday. Basically the doctor told us there's nothing more he can do for Paul and changed his work status to light duty with restrictions. The doctor also referred him to a pain clinic. His employer should get notice sometime this week, then if they can accomodate his restrictions, Paul will get a certified letter with a position offer. I am anxious about this. I honestly don't know which way this will go. There are both positives and negetives in him going back to work and not going back to work.

I had a very negetive attitude about Thanksgiving this year. Specifically about how things would work out with Jesse, since dinner was scheduled in the middle of naptime and we were traveling an hour to get there. He did sleep in the car, which was what I'd hoped for. But I was also hoping it would be more than a half hour. It wasn't too bad if you set aside chasing him around like a little tornado and the other kids not wanting to play with him. We all got to eat dinner and skated out of there when he got out of hand. We were the first to leave, but at least it was after desert.

Saturday we planned another "Thanksgiving" with my family. Just Mom & Dad, Sis & BIL and their kids. It was nice and relaxing, timed after naps. Everything was going great, dinner got served, we were all enjoying ourselves, then Mom goes, "since we have you all here...", uh oh!

Mom announced that her and Dad are moving, likely to Alabama. They are putting their condo on the market, Mom's quitting her job and will start to get Social Security after her birthday, then Dad will get it after his birthday in October. The cost of living here is too high for them, my Mom is working a low paying job and my Dad is unemployed working odd jobs just to make ends meet. Their mortgage is their biggest expense and they can live elsewhere for much less money. Plus they want to do some "living" before they are unable to. I understand, but honestly, I am completely crushed. I feel like a baby, but in reality, I have never been this far away from my parents for more than a few weeks. I never went away to college, I never traveled for more than a couple weeks, neither have they. It's not like I'll still be able to just call my Dad and have him pop over. I guess I need to learn how to be even more independent from them, which isn't such a bad thing. They won't be around forever. I thought they'd wait until their grandkids were a little older. I had a special relationship with my Grandmother that most kids don't have. She lived with us, so she was always there. It breaks my heart knowing Jesse won't have that with my parents. For the record... I do not want them to live with me, but a few towns over is nice.

I'll get over it, just that initial shock is a tough one.

Hives!

Something I love right now: when Jesse holds my hand and not because I am making him.

Last week was rough. Sunday Jesse had a fever. Not sure why, it was up to 102. I did the standard protocol, gave him Tylenol, monitored his temp, gave him a popsicle, gave him a luke warm bath, kept him hydrated, etc. I was able to get his fever under control and it never spiked above 102. Monday he still had the fever, but it was close to 100. Tuesday he seemed much better so we resumed the daily routine. Wednesday when he got up, he was covered in hives! I wasn't sure if the hives and fever were at all related and with my family history of allergic reactions and hives, I wasn't going to mess around. Jesse stayed home with Paul and I headed to the office. On my way I called the pediatrician's office and made the appointment. They were able to get us in at 11am. Since the pediatrician's office is near my work, I met Paul and Jesse there. When we got in the room and took his clothes off, the hives were considerably worse than how I had seen them in the morning. The doctor took one look and said it was hives. He said because Jesse had a fever earlier in the week that the hives were likely viral. The one thing that confuses me, viral hives are itchy and I never saw his scratch. They were hot, so uncomfortable for him, but not itchy.

I am skeptical about this viral hives thing. It almost sounds like an explanation for unexplained hives. I did some online research and I could be wrong, but I am just not buying it. I mentioned above my family history with hives and I'll explain. My sister gets hives, in a big way. My sisters started around the age of 2. She was sick and the doctor gave her a prescription, then she got hives. The prescription for hives made them even worse. They assumed it was from the color or flavor of the medication. By the time my sister was 4, they determined it was red dye. Since then, my sister has been in and out of the hospital because of this allergy, she even wears a medical bracelet that indicates her allergy... yes, it's that severe. So all growing up we had to watch what my sister ate. We all learned to read ingredients and to simply avoid certain products. This was back in the 70's and 80's before there were dye-free options like we have available today.

When Jesse was running his fever I made sure to keep him well hydrated, thus running low on apple juice. He won't drink as much pain water as juice or something flavored, so I gave him some watered down tropical punch kool-aide on Tuesday night. I had made it for Paul to drink and figured what's the harm? I guess Wednesday morning I found out what the harm was when my son was covered in hives. Coincidence? not sure. I mentioned my sisters allergy to him and he told me allergies are not hereditary. But when I was thinking about this theory of mine, I realized that Jesse has probably never had anything artificially colored. I feed him mostly fresh fruits and vegetables, he doesn't eat candy or junk food, I even give him no-added color freeze pops (made with fruit juice by Snapple). I really want to test this theory. I'd rather know now if he has an allergy to artificial color, before it does become life-threatening.

After the doctor's appointment he went home, got a dose of Benedryl and took his nap. He slept for several hours. When he woke he still had the hives, not nearly as bad as earlier. The doctor did say it would take a few days for them to go away. Here is what it looked like Wednesday evening. There were some really bad ones on his butt, but I didn't feel it was appropriate to be posting pictures of my kids butt on the internet.

Here we are on Monday, there are a few stragglers left, but most of the hives have cleared up and he's back to himself again. Just in time for Thanksgiving.

Yesterday we went to a friends house to watch the game and to get Jesse's hair cut. He looks more grown up.

Something Blue Images

My friend Maggie is an awesome photographer, mother and friend. She took these photos of us back in October and I had to share! If you are looking for a photographer in the Chicagoland or Milwaukee area, contact her. She's good! http://www.somethingblueimages.com/

Communication Breakdown

We've had a rough week. Jesse is at a point where he knows what he wants, but has a hard time communicating it. He points and goes, "me, me, me!". I have about 15 seconds to figure out what he's pointing at before he starts freaking out and having a 20 minute temper tantrum. Good times.

He has a very small vocabulary. There are just a small handful of words he uses that we can understand. I'm sure he's saying more than we know, but we can't understand him. The problem here is that he can't make sounds that involve blowing. We are talking about words that start or contain the letters /b/, /d/, /p/, /c/. I am sure there are more, but those are the main ones. What Jesse does, is he replaces those letters for /m/ or /n/. Our dog Coda, he calls Nona. That one we figured out. A ball is a "mo" and a pumpkin is a "momo", milk is also "mo". So as you can see, this translating can get quite confusing, they are all much different words that get the same label.

There's a lot of frustration around our house right now due to the communication breakdown. Jesse is frustrated because we can't understand him and we are frustrated for the same reason. When one of these cleft related challenges arises, I can help but get sad about things. I always get this feeling of guilt because I realize that we wouldn't be going through this if he wasn't born with clefts. Yes and no. Some kids go through this even if they weren't born with clefts, but of course in a moment of frustration, I don't reason that way. I also begin to wonder if his palate surgery was a success. Yes, this surgeon closed the hole, but is it working properly? My son can't blow. I know this. Maybe it's something he needs to learn, or maybe it's the muscles in his soft palate not working right. I just don't know, and time will tell. For now, we will try to use sign language as much as we can.

His speech therapist is well aware of all this, she gives us excercises to do with him that encourage blowing and making the sounds he has troubles with. I gave him a harmonica the other day to see if he would magically blow in it, but no. He held it up to his mouth and hummed. It was kind of cute, but did not accomplish the goal I was hoping for. I try random things because of our experience with the honey bear straw. I gave that to him and within minutes he was sucking through the straw, which he had never done before. Blowing is harder to teach. I blow in his face, I blow cotton balls of my hand, I blow bubbles for him, but nothing....yet! I have not given up! We will keep trying.

Halloween Happenings

I know I am a bit late on the Halloween post, so be it. I finally managed to keep my promise to myself (and my family) to take more pictures, despite of not having a fully functional digicam.

We did the pumpkin patch thing. It was a blast. Plus this was really the first time we had Jesse at a crowded public place without being in a stroller. He did quite well, and so did we. We managed to not lose him, or even have a scare. Parenting win right there. Ha!

The weekend before Halloween we carved pumpkins. I love this part. Jesse participated a little, he drew on the pumpkin with his crayons. He had the most fun putting the candles in them (battery operated for safety).

We love Halloween Day. We make an event out of it so I took a half day. The trick or treaters started at 3 and Paul got dressed up as usual. Forgot to get his picture. I probably took one last year and he's basically the same every year. I got Jesse dressed up, he was a pirate! Arrr! He wanted nothing to do with the hat. We tried everything, distractions, showing how cool Daddy was in his hat, nope, he wouldn't have it. So my idea was to try a bandana. Pirates wear bandanas right? Will it at least make the rest of the outfit look like a pirates outfit? Yes! otherwise it was just a puffy shiney shirt with a vest.

We actually did some trick or treating. We hit the immediate neighbors around us, then headed over to Paul's parents. Not like Jesse eats candy, but he had fun acrrying around the bucket. Grandpa did share some of his peanut butter cup though.

How's that for getting more pictures!?

Speech Therapy

Jesse started Speech Therapy through Early Intervention back in July at the recommendation of the Speech Pathologist with his cleft team. It's been going great and we really like his therapist. My sister works in Special Education, and Jesse's therapist works at my sister's school too.

His therapist thinks he's making progress and doing great. She knows we also work with him and can see that it making a difference.
Last month we had a cleft team appointment where Jesse was seen by the Nurse Coordinator, the Plastic Surgeon and the Speech Pathologist. Everything seemed pretty routine. The Speech Pathologist evaluated him. She gave the impression that Jesse was doing well. I remember her stating he was doing well and she wanted to increase his therapy to 2X a week to keep the momentum going. I actually thought that was a bit strange and I vaguely recall questioning the increase, but this is my cleft team and I am supposed to trust them, since they are the experts.

This week I got the report from the above mentioned Cleft Team appointment and I was shocked by the Speech Pathologist report. My initial shock came from the negetivity of this report. It seems to only focus about what he's doing wrong and does not mention any of his accomplishments. I suppose this would be because according to this report, he has not progressed since his last appointment, which is untrue. The report states that he's at a 13 month level (and he was 18 months old at the time), this makes him 5 months behind. He has never been that far behind, so this is telling me he's regressing? I disagree and his weekly therapist disagrees. The report has statements like "Phonological skills are significantly impared." and "It is also recommended that he have treatment two-three times a week as the one session is not providing adequite support for this child's language skills."

Not only does this bother me because it's about my child, who I want to excel, but I am bothered because I feel this is not an accurate evaluation. My son was seen in a doctor's office, by a woman he doesn't know (because he only sees her every 3-4 months). I would not expect him to be very verbal with her, as opposed to his weekly therapist, who he knows and trusts.

So now what? Do I follow the advise of the cleft team's Speech Pathologist by increasing his therapy to 2-3 days a week, or do I blow it off and follow his weekly therapists direction. This is so frustrating and stressful. I just want what's best for my kid.

The Chicken Nugget

I have a new idea in the works to get a new camera. not just any new camera, but a good one! I hope I can make this happen.

So when I had Jesse I made a promise to myself and him that I wouldn't feed him crap. Meaning, I will not buy him fast food chicken nuggets, fries or anything of the like. There's no excuse to not cook his meals. Sure, I have given him jarred baby food and on occasion Gerber Graduates meals. That was mostly due to convenience for his previous daycare providers. I did make babyfood for him and froze it in ice cubes. That's what I gave him for his home meals before he started on solids.

I've been having feeding problems lately. Sometimes he just does not want to eat. I can usually get him to eat pasta, eggs (with spinach and cheese), yogurt and fruit. But that's about it. A kid can't live on those 4 things alone. Ok, he probably can, but I feel like I need to give him well rounded meals. Meals that include meat (or protein) and vegetables. Yes, eggs have protein and veg, which is why I started feeding them to him, but I am finding myself giving him eggs 4 times a week because he won't eat much else.

Today I finally broke down and bought a bag of chicken nuggets. I feel guilty! Not as guilty as I would buying him chicken nuggets from a fast food joint, but guilty that I am still going to give him processed meat. It's not like chicken nuggets existed 30 or 40 years ago, and those kids survived. I will jusify this a little. I have made him breaded chicken breast.... but he wouldn't eat it. Honestly, I have no clue why. I liked it!

For the past 6 weeks or so, Jesse started going to structured daycare. By structured I mean that he's going to daycare that's not just a friend watching my kid. He goes every day, gets fed there and has a schedule there. The lady that runs the daycare feeds several children, so she feeds the kids much like a daycare facility would; pizza, quesadillas, spaghetti, pbj, grilled cheese, corn dogs and yes, the chicken nugget. I am not completely opposed to these foods, I just don't want my kid hooked on fast food before he can even choose what to eat. But if he needs protein in his diet and a chicken nugget is a method to do-so, then so be it. It's not like I plan on feeding him chicken nuggets on a daily basis or anything. Oh and another point of justification, I at least bought the name brand that's 100% natural with no fillers.

Reading Blogs

I read blogs at work because I have down time at various points of my day. I read decent amount of them too. They make me laugh, and cry and are a source for inspiration. Then I go home from the office and my busy life takes over.

I also made a promise to myself to take more pictures, freeze time, have memories to actually look at. Notice there are like no pictures in my last several posts. That's because I don't even have a fully functioning camera right now. My Sony does this shaking thing randomly, but more often than not. Then my Canon Rebel takes a shit?!? Seriously? I really need a functioning camera, but no funds for one. GRRR!

The story of a rough night

Being a mother has it's challenges and rewards. Last night I had both. This happens often, the challenge in itself becomes the reward. Last night I got home from my softball game. Jesse had gone to bed and woken shortly before I arrived. I gave him a few minutes by taking the trash out and hoping the red lights on the monitor would be gone when I made my return, but much to my dismay, all 5 lights would light up every few seconds. I guess I should go in.
I entered his bedroom, which had become warm and muggy. I get his diaper changed and head out to the living room to offer him some milk and a snack so I can assess the problem. He's stuffy, but tht often happens when he's crying and upset. Hell, I get stuffy when I cry.
We hang out with him for a bit, try some soothing, but nothing seems to be working really. It was time for Paul and I to hit the sack, so I out him back to bed with some Tylenol and hope for the best. Mission not a success. I think he was crying hourly. Finally at 5am I get up with him and bring him out to the couch with me. He falls asleep on the couch, so do I. I was finally able to soothe my little man back to sleep. That right there is the reward, despite the fact that it's 5:20am. Shortly after I was asleep. Unfortunately his pleasant slumber was disruped when he rolled off the couch at 7:20am. He was fine, just scared the crap out of him.

Indian Summer

I know the term Indian Summer is not very politically correct, but you know, I don't really care. It's my favorite time. It's like fall with a splash of summer. It's when the leaves start changing. It's when it's cool and crisp in the morning and by lunchtime it's in the 70's and the sun is shining. To me, Indian Summer is perfect.

If I had more vacation time, I'd take this whole week off, because this week in the Chicagoland area, it's officially Indian Summer. I am, however, taking Friday off. What to do? Well, there's lots to do, but I am thinking we might head over to the arboretum. My MIL has a membership, which I will borrow from her. maybe we'll hit up a pumpkin patch too, we'll see how the day goes. Either way, I will be outside.

What comes with this time of year is tradition. I love fall traditions and I hope to expand on them in the coming years, now that I have a little guy to pass them along to. Since Paul and I brought our home 4 years ago, we've made it a tradition to decorate for Halloween. Each year we get something to add to the decor. We make it fun. We don't do anything over the top, but it's obvious to those who see our home that we love this holiday. Today Paul is on the hunt for inexpensive items to add this year. I am excited to see what he comes up with.

There's something special about this time of year in the Midwest. It's something many other regions don't experience. I feel it's important to keep traditions of fall in the Midwest alive and pass them on to my son. Like going to the pumpkin patch, enjoying a cup of hot chocolate, apple picking, hot apple cider warming on the stove and filling the house with the sweet and spicy aroma, jumping in a pile of leaves, hanging out by a fire on a chilly night, carving pumpkins, roasting pumpkin seeds and scaring the bejesus out of children on Halloween... oh wait, I just ruined that picture I was creating, didn't I?

Here's to the start of a new season, my favorite season.

Work Hardening

Paul started work hardening 2 weeks ago. It kind of freaked both of us out. Does this mean they are preparing him to go back to work?? Of course Paul wants to return to work, but neither one of us believe he is anywhere close to being ready. After his first full week (3.5 hours a day M-F), he soon discovered what this really is. This can lead to preparing to get back to work, but for now, they are teaching him how to live life with a major back injury. He's learning how to bend, sit, stand, pick stuff up, etc. I think he's finally realizing that he's never going to be the person he was before his injury. He's been in a lot of pain since starting, which concerned us.

He started week 2 last week. Mid week he was told there was nothing more they could do for him, so they discontinued his program and set him up for a Functional Capacity Evaluation. This will measure his pain levels by his heart rate. They will have him do 4 hours of activities and determine what he can and can't do. Theoretically, this will determine if he's employable or not.

I suppose most people in this situation would not want to be employable, collect a settlement, sign up for permanent disability and live off that. Not Paul. Paul's a man's man. He loves to work. He's the kind of guy that won't reward himself until he's put in a hard days work. this has been so hard for him, not working. Being in pain and not woking for 2 years is definitley taking a toll on him. He feels almost worthless. It's sad, but there's nothing I can do for him as much as I wish I could.

The First Scare

Yesterday we had our first scare. We were asking ourselves if we should take him to the ER.

I'll rewind. Yesterday I had my cousins baby shower. It was fun. My Mom and sister were there, cousins and aunts too. It was great seeing everyone. I got to talk to everyone a little, which I rarely do, especially with Jesse. The shower started right at Jesse's nap time, so I left him behind. Which also freed up my arms to sweet miss Faith (my 5 month old neice). I even stayed until the end.

Before I left I meant to grab a balloon for Jesse and it completely slipped my mind. I had been planning on making a stop to the dollar store at some point, so I stopped on my way home and got him a new balloon and some more glow sticks. He just loved the balloon! I knew he would. Paul had a friend over so we were in and out of the house. We were sitting in the garage and Jesse was playing in the driveway. He fell. It happens, a lot. I saw him fall, but something was different this time. It wasn't how he fell. Could have been they cry he let out, or quite possibly mothers instinct (if such a thing exists). I sprinted over to him and scooped him up, he hugged me back, which doesn't happen often. I got a look at his face and saw blood and rushed him into the house.

There was blood, lots of blood. I had a hard time finding what was even bleeding, but I knew it was inside his mouth. I saw the blood accumulating in his mouth, just seeing his teeth and not the gums. I kept calm, got him a cup of water and some damp paper towels. Paul was convinced a tooth came out, or was loose and that there was something drastically wrong. I remained calm and gave it time. After a few minutes the bleeding started to subside and I saw that his tooth cut the inside of his bottom lip and didn't appear to need stitches. Had the bleeding kept it's beginning pace, a trip to the ER would have happened.

15 minutes and a popsicle later, he was smiling again. Whew!
He has a little road rash between his nose and chin, but that should go away soon. Nothing on the outside of his face was bleeding, just some minor scraping. I called the plastic surgeons office and they said to keep it clean and dry. If the skin is too raw to use some antibacterial ointment on it to prevent infection.

Balance

There's a certain level of balance in my life. I am still kind of figuring it all out, but I feel more balance lately. Sure I don't get everything done that needs to be done, but I for damn sure try. Some days I am exhausted and want to do nothing. Other days I will bust some shit out. There's a lot of routine during the week and almost none at all on the weekends, but it always seems to balance out.

One major change that's happened is the change in daycare. I think this is HUGE! The change bought me a 1/2 hour in the morning and another 1/2 hour in the evening. 1/2 hour, big deal, right? WRONG! Most people don't get the value of a 1/2 hour to a working mother with a 17 month old and a semi-disabled husband. The extra time in the morning is automatically used for the extra sleep. Some nights I am lucky to get 5 hours of sleep, so an extra 1/2 hour, I will gladly take it! Then in the afternoon, I get home a half hour earlier, more time to spend playing with my son before he needs to hit the sack.

The new daycare is more expensive, but as I see it, I am buying time! I am also buying quality daycare. This is huge. He is in an environment he needs to be in. I guess I couldn't see what he was missing before, but I see now. It's not that anything was wrong before this change, it just wasn't quite enough. BUT I was getting daycare from a friend and not from someone who does this for a living, like we are now.

This morning Jesse had his periodic visit to the cleft team. I am not sure what I was expecting, but I left there feeling much better than I did when I walked in. We got all positive remarks. Jesse's scar is softening up, which is great! He met with the speech pathologist who said he's "so smart" and doing well with his speech. I guess this is where I thought he'd fallen behind and I would get reprimanded for. Boy was I wrong.

I'll wrap this up with some pictures. One from the docs office, the rest from the park on Saturday.

First Day and a Trip to the Lake

Today is Jesse's first day of real daycare. In the past he's always been with friends or family. This is the first time I've dropped him off at a stranger's house. Of course she's not a complete stranger, we did interview her and all that, but she's not someone I know. I'm sure he's fine, but of course I have all these what if's running through my head. He is my one and only baby, of course I am going to think these things. A few more hours and I can go pick him up and take him back to the safety of our home. Lets hope I get a good report and feel comfortable sending him back there next week.
We had a great weekend. Made a trip up to the lake. I love going to the lake. The drive was a little harsh, but we managed. About 1/2 way up there Jesse was screaming, we tried juice, snacks, entertainment and nothing worked so I had to pull over assuming it was a dirty diaper. I pull over at a gas station, the next one that came along. In retrospect I should have waited for the nice one. I head inside, go in the unisex restroom and of course, no changing table. I have to use the floor, which was the filthiest bathroom floor I think I have ever seen in my life. Ok, I'm sure I've been in filthy bathrooms before, but never paid much attention since I didn't need to change my baby's diaper in one before now. Ok, I can do this. Quickly, swiftly and get the hell out of there! I did it, but wait, what did I discover during this process, oh yes, the pants I just whipped off him, are soaked! Not just a little wet, soaked. I obviously do not put them back on my boy and quickly escape this hell hole of a gas station. But what do I see out of the corner of my eye... my husband standing in front of the beer cooler, holding a six-pack (for when we arrive at our destination). I make eye contact and tell him, I need help and I walk out the door.
I have a crabby baby, with no pants on, holding soaked pants and a pair of shoes. Since the pants are soaked I quickly realize that the car seat is also wet, with pee. Paul comes flying out the gas station door and asks what he can do. Hold him. I pass him off and start digging through the mounds of stuff in the car to find a rag to put in the bottom of the carseat, a new pair of pants for the kid and something to make him happy. Mission accomplished. Whew, back on the road.
We finally arrive at the lake. Much later than anticipated. But we are there and we can now relax and enjoy the weekend.