"I am just a woman. One woman freaking out on a planet full of a lot of other women who, I think, are also freaking out. It's not just the ones with kids. Those of us who have kids are just laid bare more easily because our children know us for who we really are and they tell on us." - Susanna Foth Aughtmon, from "All I Need Is Jesus & A Good Pair Of Jeans". (TiredSupergirl.com)
(This is actually my THIRD try at getting this post typed and uploaded. I've had a little "help" from some eager hands that have managed to delete my previous two attempts. Hmmm...patience...not perfection.)
We were at the airport waiting for our flight to Orlando. Jackson’s diaper was stinky, so I took him to the bathroom for a quick change. (There is a strange, yet very real, phenomenon that takes place in my bladder when I enter a restroom. Regardless of whether or not I needed to go before I walked inside, once I am surrounded by the sound of multiple toilets flushing simultaneously, I desperately feel the need to “go”. So it was on this occasion.)
After I finished changing the poopie diaper I found an empty stall and hauled my little man in there with me. I really needed to go and was doing the potty dance that I so often see my girls doing when they’ve waited too long. Jackson thought it was pretty cool and threw himself on the floor (yes…that gross, disgusting airport bathroom floor!). I was too busy getting myself situated to stop him. Of course, once on the floor my ornery little two-year-old started to see endless possibilities for mischief. He peaked under the stall to see who was occupying the next one over. I gasped and pulled him back towards me. Then, he snuck a peak under the other side. Again, I pulled him back and in my sweetest motherly voice said, “Jackson, we don’t do that.” (And I know he was thinking, “Oh yes we do!”) Then, like lightening speed Jackson shot under the stall door and started climbing to his feet…ready for the sweet taste of freedom. I was STILL on the potty! I leaped forward and grabbed his left foot all the while my pants were down around my ankles…tooshy in the sky. Jackson was laughing and squealing with delight - no doubt because of the grunts and gasps coming from my side of the bathroom stall. I held on to his foot for dear life and pulled him back inside with me. I literally had to keep one hand on him as I finished up. I could see it in his pudgy little face, one false move on my part and I might literally be “laid bare” for all the world to see! Gotta love kids!
Are you perfect? Probably not. Am I perfect? No way! It's a heck of a lot easier to pull off an illusion of perfection without a couple of "mini-me's" hanging all over you, but at the end of the day...nobody is perfect. Every time I walk out of this house with my three little ones in tow I might as well not even bother with the make-up...wrinkles, warts and never-ending blemishes come shining through! So, don't worry about being perfect (perfection is highly over-rated) and our children will be the first in line to bring us back to reality every time.
Just a note of advice: never take two-year-old boys into public bathroom stalls without a leash or stroller.