(Mom, you may not want to read this post. It involves poop. Love you!)
I had to take Norah with me to class today. I have taken her to all but one of my classes this semester, and I am so thankful to have professors who are kind and gracious and don't mind having a crowing baby in class every once in a while. Those professors don't know how much I appreciate their flexibility and understanding.
So. I took Norah to my Masterpieces of Literature class. I was prepared for 50 minutes of baby entertaining, equipped with: 1 bowl of cut up cheese, 1 bowl of graham crackers, 1 sippy cup, about 85 toys, and 4 diapers.
Norah was a doll. She was cute and charming and relatively quiet. And when she did burst out in baby monologue, it was perfectly timed, just as Dr. Stratman paused for class responses. She crawled around the back of the room, flirted, stood up and tried to walk, and only tried to escape once. In fact, there was only hiccup, about 25 minutes into class.
I was keeping one eye on Norah the entire time, and about 25 minutes in I noticed she was sitting very still and making her poop face. Great! I went through my various options, but pretending I didn't notice was not going to work because eventually someone was going to smell her and 25 minutes was a long time for her to sit in poop. I had to change her. So I, the intrepid mother that I am, gathering up the diaper change essentials and took her to the bathroom. I was undaunted by the lack of changing table. After spending 2 semesters pregnant and 2 with a baby, I know full well that JBU was not built to accommodate pregnant ladies or mothers with small babies.
There was someone else in the bathroom and I felt a little bad for her because I could already smell Norah's diaper, though I had not yet taken off her pants, so I knew that as soon as the girl came out of the stall she was going to be assaulted by Dorito charged baby poop. (Yes, I gave my baby Doritos yesterday, but come on! It was her birthday!) I took off Norah's pants, opened her diaper, blinked through my watering eyes because Doritos make for very pungent fumes, and reached for the wipes. And in the time it took me to reach for the wipes, Norah reached down between her legs and pulled at the top of her diaper. Quickly. She pulled it like you would pull a table cloth from a table, trying to keep all the dishes and silverware from flying off with the cloth.
However, that sort of pulling action does not work out the same way when you try it with a diaper full of poop. So while the dishes and silverware maybe would have remained on the tabletop, the poop went flying. Flying! A big ball of Dorito baby poop vaulted out of Norah's diaper and landed near her head, just barely missing her face. The girl was still in the stall and I would have felt like a colossal idiot if she walked out and saw a big ball of orange poop on the ground next to my baby's head, so I reacted without really thinking about it. I grabbed the poop, bare handed, and flung it back in the diaper. Then, the girl came out of the stall so with poop on both hands and on the floor I continued business as normal, apologizing for the scene as I usually do when strangers come upon my baby's naked butt in unordinary places. She left, and I continued the clean up process, wiping the floor and the baby and vigorously washing my hands.
Being a mom, its always exciting.