Did I say for?   With. I meant with.

Welcome to Parenting with Dummies…

Lemme just give you a little picture of what Fridays look like with us folks who don’t use our heads:

• After several days with a sick boy, ship him off to a full day at the babysitter. (He seems better, so it doesn’t seem like a bad idea.)
• Run late (as usual.) Throw a mini-fit on the way out the door about not having time to get coffee or breakfast.
• Drop attitude and turn on sweetness when the kind Hubs shows up with a latte and breakfast sandwich before students arrive.
• Take two sips, calm thyself down, and get back to work.
• Dump coffee over test booklets and materials for the day’s math/art lessons. Lovely.
• Keep smiling, because at least there is food in stomach now, and about 1/3 a cup of coffee left. And still 5 minutes to clean up and gather new supplies before 28 smiling faces enter.
• Continue school day as usual while hoping and praying the boy isn’t too tired and cranky for the babysitter.
• Realize there are TWO 5-year old birthday parties to go to on Saturday, it is now Friday, and you have no gifts.
• Plan to have a fun “Family Date Night” after picking up kids… dinner out, buy gifts, home to snuggle and read books before bed. Perfect.
• Head out to babysitter’s. Confirm plans with the Hubs. He’s on board.
• Pick up kids, find out the boy isn’t feeling up to par. Consider staying home for the night altogether or just heading out myself.
• Decide to keep Family Date Night a go… Just a quick dinner and a stop at Target. No big deal, right? We’ll be back in no time. (Crucial error #1).
• Stop at home to pick up dad and potty the family… including the boy and the dog. So proud of the big boy doing such a great job, decide to keep him in big boy undies instead of pull-ups. After all, it’s just a quick dinner and a stop at Target. No big deal, right? We’ll be back in no time. (Crucial error #2).
• Dog in kennel, head out for a fun night. Time: 5:30
• Pull up to Red Robin, realize it’s Friday night, and park half way to the mall. Given wait time: 25 minutes. No biggie. We can handle it. Just a few extra minutes to our fun night.
• Giggle when my girl says to me, “Mommy, the girl keeps saying someone’s name, then ‘Party of 4.’ How come everyone is here for a party but us?” Tell her, “Oh, but we ARE here for a party! It’s a family party! Don’t believe me? Wait until she calls our name. She’ll say, ‘Matt? Party of 4?'” (Actual wait time: about 15 minutes… thanks to several parties that no-showed.)
• Enjoy a free dinner at Red Robin courtesy of the Schulz family. Thanks, Dee and Gary! 🙂
• Just as we’re finishing up, notice a red-faced boy with a panicked look. “Mommy! I went poopoo in my pants!”
• Begin to panic while the Hubs tries to keep the situation calm and the boy from feeling worse than he already does.
• Gather thyself. Grab purse and help boy out of booth and through restaurant, walking slowly and gingerly. Me, I mean. He walks wide-legged like a cowboy, talking about the poop all the way out.
• Hustle to the car, hoping and praying you left the diaper bag in there from the babysitter’s. Try not to think about what you’ll have to do if you didn’t. Nearly slip on the ice. That was a close one. The boy does slip on the ice. Catch him just before poopy bottom hits pavement, and keep hurrying in the freezing cold.
• Get to van and discover diaper bag. Thank you, Jesus. 
• Spend 2 minutes opening every door trying to figure out the best location for taking care of business. Decide on front passenger seat. Determine this is a better location than walking from way out in the lot back to the restaurant bathroom. Crucial error #3.
• Take off the boy’s shoes and pants. Learn the mess is contained in his undies. Jeans are clean. Say a quick prayer of thanks.
• Remember the almost-fall on the ice that would have surely un-contained the mess. Say another quick prayer of thanks.
• Decide that just in case things go bad, you’d better take off the boy’s socks, too. He’s already complaining of the freezing cold while standing in his undies, socks, and sweatshirt. Start car and get some heat going on him.
• Take off socks and begin to precariously take off undies. Realize the mess may be messier than originally thought. Throw doggie blanket under the boy just in case.
• Pull off underwear before forming a plan for where to put messy undies and where to position poopy boy so as to clean him. Crucial error #4.
• Make several more crucial errors that result in the once contained poop smearing on both of the boy’s legs, both (thankfully bare) feet, doggie blanket (sorry, Izzy), and dropping with a smack on first the car door runner, then finally into one large clump on pavement.
• Stare in amazement, wondering how contained poop can become so… uncontained.
• Stare at my own now poopy hand holding poopy undies and other hand steadying freezing-poopy-naked-boy and wonder how I’m going to clean up this mess without stepping or kneeling in poop or giving the poor boy frostbite in places we’d rather not mention.
• Get to work. Fast. With freezing cold wet-wipes.
• Decide that with no garbage in sight and nothing in the car to act as such, the best way to handle the entire poopy mess is to roll it into a bazillion wet wipes and shove it in the side-door pocket until a bag is available.
• Use every last bloomin’ wet wipe cleaning ever last poopy surface. Roll up the mess as best as possible and stick with door pocket plan.
• After spending way too much time outside, head back into the restaurant with frozen boy, wondering why the other half of the family hasn’t joined us outside yet. Dinner was over when we left, after all.
• Scrub with soap and as hot of water as we can handle.
• Come back to table, only to discover bill has not yet been paid, because I had the gift cards with me in my purse. Which is now in the car. Which is half way to the mall.
• The Hubs says he’ll run and get the purse. And when he gets back, he’ll pay the bill, because I need to take the female child to the bathroom. She has to go poopoo too.
• Hubs returns with disgusted look. “Did everything go ok when you were taking care of Jacob??? Because the entire car smells like POOP!”
• Smile. Say yes. Take the girl to the very full bathroom. Go in stall with her, even though she asks for privacy. Crucial error number… I don’t know. I’ve lost count.
• Die of embarrassment as she talks loudly about bathroom stuff. Ask her to please be quiet and focus on her job. Die even more when she says even louder, inciting giggles from the stall next to us, “Ok, Mom. You’re right. It’s really hard to talk and push the poopoo out at the same time.”
• Wash hands and get the heck out of there as quickly as possible. Only not too quickly, because the keys are lost. Not in my purse. Not in the bathroom. Not at the table. Not in anyone’s pockets.
• While the Hubs checks the table for the second time, remember smelly car we are trying to get into. Ask one of the employees for a bag to dispose of leftover mess. Say a quiet prayer of thanks that even though this is Bellingham, someone has a plastic bag to give me. Even if it is a ginormous outdoor trash bag. It’ll work.
• Leave Red Robin at about the time we intended on getting home.
• Head to Target to do the one thing we actually came to Bellingham to do.
• Head home. Bathe overly tired boy. Spray and wipe down car.
• Send kids to bed much later than planned, with no books or snuggle time.
• Determine pull-ups may be a better choice for public outings for a few weeks. Time: 10:00pm.