A funny thing happened on our way to the park...

So, every other weekend, Lance gets to spend four days with his dad in Fairfax, VA. I usually drive him up Thursday afternoon and his dad will bring him back down Sunday evening.

Yesterday we had preschool and after preschool the moms had lunch (we do a co-op preschool where each week a different mother teaches and one day a week we all have lunch together while the kids play). Anyway, Lance and Jude and I had a late start up to Northern VA. The two hour ride up there went without a hitch, with Lance keeping Jude happy in the back seat and proclaiming for the last half that he would not whine about how long it was taking. True to his word, we arrived in Fairfax without the usual "why is this taking so long?", "where are we" or "Mom, what are you doing?" We happened to arrived a few minutes before Lance's dad, so I decided we would go play at the park that is right across the street while we waited.

I park directly in front of the park and notice that, thanks to the beautiful day, it's full of kids and parents. I get the stroller out of the trunk and then unbuckled Lance who says he needs to go to the bathroom. "Okay, well, get your shoes on while I get Jude and we'll go to the bathroom at the park." "I don't want to go there, I want to go in my dad's house." "Lance, I don't have a key to your dad's house, so we need to just go at the park." "Okay."

I unbuckle Jude and notice there is a nasty smell in the back seat. Jude is often gassy, so I think nothing of it and swing him up into my arms. That's when I know something isn't quite right. I look down and see that my arm is covered in this lovely mustard-y colored mush and that the same mush is now smeared all over Jude's legs, outfit, and carseat. Yay.

I frantically look around for a place to put him while I clean everything up. In the car? No... it would get all over the seat. Back in his carseat? Nope, it's too dirty and would just complicate things. The stroller? No, again. I finally settle on a little grassy clearing near our car located just behind the stone building that has the bathrooms in it (about 10 yards from the park itself). By this time Lance is dancing around and saying how badly he needs to go.

I lay Jude in the grass and break out the wipes, hoping everyone at the park is too busy with their own children to look over. "Lance, why don't you go to the bathroom over there by the tree." The glory of being a boy--you can go just about anywhere. And, of course, the boy who begs to go outside on our grass at home and uses every excuse to NOT go in a toilet wails, "I don't want to go there! I want to go inside!" I'm on my sixth wipe by now and have made little progress on the yellow mess. Jude is grinning and enjoying the whole experience. "It's okay, Lance. Just go. I'm sorry, I can't take you to the bathroom right now." "But Mom, someone will see me!" (I guess I should be glad this was a thought for him because we've been talking about privacy at our house, so I guess it's made an impression.)

The diaper is changed, Jude's legs are clean, and his arms (I still don't know how it got up there) are free of yuck. Now to dress him again. I pull out a new outfit from the diaper bag and proceed to re-robe the babe. Lance is getting frantic at this point. "It's okay, Lance. No one will see you! You can go!" He decides the consequences of waiting are not worth the possibility of someone seeing him and darts to the stone building. Pants come down, and then relief. Jude is only half-dressed when I hear, "Mom, my underwear is wet." Breathe. "It's okay Lance. Just pull up your pants and go wait next to the car. I have new clothes for you, too." And my 4-year-old trots to the car and promptly sits in the stroller I have set up, still waiting for Jude and our trip to the park. Of course.

Jude is finally clean and clothed, his dirty outfit stuffed inside a ziplock bag, the orange that used to be inside said bag having been thrown into the trees because the bag was needed more than the fruit. I gather everything up and walk over to the trash can at the park where I throw away the diaper and a mountain of wipes. Perhaps it's just my imagination, but I can see some other moms looking at me and assessing my parenting skills. I walk back to the car where luckily I have a change of clothes for Lance. I open the door and have him change in the car with me standing watch.

After I wipe out as much of the mustard poo from the carseat as humanly possible, the boys and I finally, finally go to the park. I place them both in swings and seat myself in one as well. Even after all that, it was worth the feeling of being with the children I love best and feeling the wind in my face as we laughed and swung and talked while we waited. Yep, just another day in paradise!