So what do the last almost 4 years count for. Nothing until yesterday apparently. I had a sweet friend from our ward call out of blue, and ask if Jackson could come play at her house for the next few hours (until heaven sent nap time) and he was thrilled. So I drove him over, and after I dropped him off (which he told me "I can drop myself off", and didn't want me to go with him, but I did anyway) was talking to Bart on the phone and he reminded me that I needed to mail an envelope that day to his parents (or his dad might have disowned us.) So I ran home, looked through all the folders in my filing (because I'm really good at filing, so when I didn't have a place for the paper to go, just stuck it in another file, because then I at least know its in there somewhere), addressed the letter and got back in the car. Well Carter fell asleep on the way home from our friends' house, so he sat in the car sleeping, the car was off, windows down (it feels great outside - don't send me hate mail). So I drove to the post office. I was being the dutiful good little wife (most of the time Bart calls me his defiant wife) and realized in the post office parking lot that since I was just planning on dropping Jackson off, and going home, I hadn't gotten Carter dressed. So he was in his pajama shirt, but no pants and just a diaper. Lovely.
So I know that's a little embarrassing, and pretty much advertising yes, I'm knocked up and don't even have the energy to get the child dressed I already have, give me dirty looks, please - it really helps my day. So with a very put out dramatic sigh (I'm good at those) I got Carter out, pulled the shirt down trying to cover the diaper a little bit, situated him on my hip, cause lets be honest there's not room to hold him with this belly we got going on here, and went in to weigh & mail said envelope.
I weighed it (even brought stamps so I didn't have to buy them there, so on the ball I know) and stamped it, go to put it in the little slot, and all of a sudden I AM SOAKING WET. Now for anyone that has had a baby, especially anyone that has had their water break on them, this is a scary feeling. For about a second and a half I was scared to death. I've never had my water break, but even more so I'm not anywhere close to where if your water breaks its okay. So about 2 seconds in, I realize I'm not just wet down my legs, and the front of my shirt. I'm soaking wet from pretty much bra line down. So water breaking not an option. So yes, the only other choice was the lovely child who had been climbing up my shoulder at the moment and as any mom can probably guess, peed all down my clothes. The diaper by the way almost entirely dry. So luckily (I guess) my clothes were absorbent and black so it didn't show up very much, and I got out of there as discreetly and quickly as humanly, hugely pregnant while carrying squirming, yelling one year old possible.
So there you go. I have a friend who had her son throw up on her in a grocery store, while (as any good mom would do) was trying to carry throw up in her hands while consoling the crying child. When she asked for sympathetic stories of public mom embarrassment I really didn't have one off the top of my head I could remember. So here you go Tricia. . . mortification completed. Thanks Karin for inspiredly (Real word? I don't know) taking Jackson, because a three year old trying to pull off every package wrapped and stuck to the post office wall display would have made the situation even more fun.
But yes, its official. You can no longer talk yourself into the fact that you're still really cool at 26, even though you have almost three kids, when you're walking out of the post office, soaking wet, half naked child and the one thing you're grateful for is that at least it didn't get in my shoes. Let the tapered mom jeans, curlers & mini-van commence. (For the record, I wear yoga pants, don't attempt to curl my hair and I drive a suburban...but whatever).