When you have children..especially the first one…you can only imagine how special and wonderful it is going to be. All the snuggling , reading books, baking amazing Martha Stewart like Christmas cookies and just being dazzled by the brilliance of your genetic offspring on a daily basis. Then they arrive and you notice that sometimes all that snuggling can lead you to feel slightly smothered, teaching a toddlerto read is about as tedious as watching paint dry and Martha Stewart wouldn’t be caught dead within a 100 feet of on of your sprinkle laden slice and bake cookies. So you adjust. But every now and then something happens that even you couldn’t have imagined after you adjusted your expectations. And that friends is where my story begins.

I was working at a nursing home in Chicago and needed to go back to finish up some paper work. I had picked Michael up from pre-school and since I just had to make a quick stop decided to take him with me. We stopped at McDonalds for lunch and headed back to my office. About twenty minutes into our productive afternoon I felt it. That cramping , grumbling pain you feel when you know you REALLY need to take action quickly. I grabbed my purse and my toddler and headed to the nearest restroom. The ladies restrom was right off the lobby. It was a large handicapped room and when the door opened you were facing a lobby full of people. I made it just in time and began what would be the most painful and humiliating experience of my life.

As the pain and pooping progressed I began the laborious process of opening the Imodium packet. If you have ever tried to conquer his task you know that for a drug that is needed during exploding diarrhea the packaging is not user friendly. With no scissors and sweaty palms I attempted to gnaw my way into my antidotes foil lined pouch. During this crisis I look up to see Michael’s sweet cherub like hand on the doorknob as he announced “I all done..go bye-bye now!” That lead to my bowels and my heart both constricting at the same time. If he opened the door not only would he make a run for it but I would be facing an entire lobby full of people.

” No , no ” I cried….”stay with mommy”

” No I all done…”

I realized then I needed a bribe or distraction and with the Imodium package still clenched between my teeth I began to dig in my purse for anything I could use to lure him away from that door.

As luck would have it all the good stuff was in the diaper bag and I was scrambling. The only thing I could find was a black marker but no paper. So I did what any mom would have done…I pulled up the leg of my scrubs and said “look, wanna draw on mommy’s legs” to which he was all too happy to oblige. So there I sat with explosive diarrhea, gnawing on an Imodium package with the legs of my scrubs pulled up and my two year old drawing with what I hoped was not a permanent marker. To say this was my parenting low point would be an understatement, hell it was a personal low point . I bet Martha would have pulled a craft kit out of her purse . She could have used the scissors to open the Imodium and then had Michael construct a craft to show off to all the folks in the lobby. I really hate Martha!!!