Comical

I've read about things like this happening in some of my funny "first time mom" books, but until this morning I had yet to experience it. We were moving quickly to get ready this morning because I had a doctor's appointment that we couldn't be late for. I figured if we left at 9:45 we'd be sure to get to the doctor's office in plenty of time for my 10:30 appointment.

I showered and got myself ready. Then I set out to get you prepared. You ate a full bottle (ate/drank? I'm still confused about this), I washed your face so the doctor wouldn't think I let you lay around with dried breast milk all over your chin, and changed you out of your pajamas (outfit #1) into this carefully chosen uber cute pink girly outfit (outfit #2) appropriate for showing you off at the doctor's office. I pumped a bottle (just in case) and packed your diaper bag full of provisions for our two hour jaunt away from home. As I placed you in your car seat, I glanced over at the clock: 9:45 on the dot. I smiled with pride at my ability to get us both ready and out the door on time. Then it happened...

As I turned my head from the clock to finish strapping you in to your car seat, you spit up half of the contents of your belly all over your uber cute pink outfit and car seat. My smile faded as I realized I had experienced one of those classic moments of motherhood. My mother jokingly told me when I got my driver's license that "you're not an official driver until you've run out of gas, locked your keys in your car and left your lights on long enough to drain your battery." I think this is the motherhood equivalent.

I quickly chased the milk off your cheek, down your neck and around to your back with a spit rag hoping to salvage the outfit. It was no use. The mass of milk was too great. So out of your car seat you came and up the stairs to your nursery we went to change your clothes. We had an infant outfit crisis as we stared at the clothes in your closet trying to pick out the next cutest outfit. You were completely spent from spitting up, even though it didn't seem to faze you at the time (I still haven't figured out how that's possible), so you weren't much help. I settled on your purple striped shirt and pants (outfit #3). Not near as cute as the pink outfit you soaked with breast milk, but it was long sleeved and I knew I wouldn't get one of those "you let your wear THAT in THIS weather" looks from the nurses. On it went and we were off to the doctor's office.

You slept the whole way to the doctor's office, and I nearly forgot about the morning's excitement as we sat in the waiting room, listening for the door to open and the nurse to call my name. You filled a diaper on the way to our appointment, so I decided to change your diaper in the examination room before the doctor came in.

I took off your purple pants and unsnapped your purple striped onesie, removed the soiled diaper and wiped down your little toosh. Your bladder let loose as I reached for the clean diaper sitting next to you. There was potty everywhere. Like the breast milk, the potty dripped everywhere, finally pooling under the small of your back and soaking through the purple striped onesie and tissue paper cover on the exam table. I could have cried!

I quickly wiped you, me and the exam table down with wet wipes, replaced the tissue paper cover and redressed you in the "back up" outfit I keep in your diaper bag for occasions such as this (outfit #4).

I checked the time on my cell phone. It was 10:45. Our day had just begun...