Just Another Ordinary Day

What a Wednesday. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, my children were cooperating. My husband and I had stayed up late the night before setting up a new discipline system. We were watching less tv, we frolicked in the sun. Okay, okay. You get the idea.

Wednesday nights are fun because we have church. My kids love their classes and we get to eat at the church cafeteria. I guess when you are 3 and 5 cereal and chicken rings are something to get excited about! Anyway, we had enjoyed (if you can call it that) our meal and we were off to play for a few minutes before church started. There is a little area where the kids can play on foam animals. If we have extra time the kids beg me to go and play there. I was feeling generous and the kids were so well behaved that I let them play for awhile. (If any of you know me, you know that I despise foam play yards. I believe in my heart of hearts that they are cess pools of germs...) There was another little girl in the play area as well. We got to talking about all kinds of mom stuff while we sat watching our kids. Of course the potty training issue came up. I said with a smile, "Oh we have crossed that threshold. My son is doing great. He has had a few a accidents, but no big deal." I even made it into a spiritual thing, "I just prayed about it and God helped us through." She replied, "That is great. I can't get my daughter to cross the finish line in that area. She kind of has good days and days that she doesn't want anything to do with it." I smiled a compassionate smile and said, "It will come." I could gag at myself right now as you will see later. (Embarrassingly, I was actually thinking in my mind, "Yes, the Lord moved on our behalf and I, Mom of the Year, have it all figured out. I will pray for you my friend, that God will help you too potty train your wee little one.")

A few minutes later I took my son to his classroom while my husband took my daughter to hers. My husband had taken my son pee before class so I figured we were set for the next hour. I was so proud of my son and so proud of myself as a mother. "I have done it. Lord, thank you that you gave me the ability to guide my son through the potty training ways of life." I smiled at the workers and asked, "Will you ask if he has to go potty once during the hour?" The worker replied, "No, but if he is doing the potty dance we will ask him." Fair enough, I thought. I commented as I left the classroom, "He will be fine. He is doing great with the potty." Ugh. Famous last words. A friend of mine overheard me and commented, "Your son is doing great with the potty? That is so wonderful!!" I replied with a look of glee, "He is doing awesome. He is potty trained. Nothing to it. It was such a breeze!" Again, I feel like I want to gag right now...

I headed into the sanctuary and began singing my praises to God. Everything was so perfect. I just had that feeling of satisfaction. I looked to my left and the short man with glasses from my son's class was standing next to me as I sang. He leaned over and seemed afraid to talk. I just raised my eyebrows and asked, "Did my son have an accident?" The man just shook his head yes as if he was the one who failed and even seemed relieved that he was not the one to have to say those words. I made the long walk from the sanctuary back to my son's class. The whole awkward walk was filled with encouragement from this man. "I remember that my son was almost 4 before we had him trained. We had tried everything." I again said, "Normally my son does really well. We always seem to have those little (I emphasized the word little) accidents when we aren't at home though." Now remember, I was thinking that I was super mom today. I could not quite figure out why this kind mind seemed so sympathetic and compassionate over pee. Hadn't he ever heard the phrase about not crying over spilled milk?? I thought to myself, "Come on sir, have you not had to clean up a little pee in your day?"

I arrived at the classroom and saw the other worker who had the same look of sadness. "Where is he?" I asked. The female teacher simply pointed to her left. As I walked into the bathroom the direction she pointed I heard her say, "I hope you brought a complete change of clothes and lots of wipes." Now that caught me off guard. I thought to myself, "What is wrong with these people? Is this their first Wednesday around 3 year olds?!" The bathroom had little curtains that pull closed instead of doors. I pulled back the little fishy curtain only to find my son sitting on the potty with (there is no other words to describe, I am sorry in advance) soft, messy poop from his ankles up his legs, on the potty, up his back and on his shirt. My cherubic son looked and me and immediately said, "I had a acc'adent." I was in shock. This was not just an "acc'adent" this was complete humiliation! I could not believe first of all that my son would sit still in this mess on the potty behind the fishy curtain for the 5-7 minutes it took for the teachers to come and find me and for me to return. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

I had no wipes so I began grabbing paper towels. You know the kind. The sand paper towels that come out of the dispenser pre-cut. You simply pull and one brown sheet of what seems like construction paper is ready for you to use! What in the world is this stuff anyway. It doesn't want to be wet if you wet it and it doesn't want to dry anything if you try and wipe anything up. Nonetheless, I grabbed a few and began to wet some and keep others dry. I began wiping the toilet, my son's legs and his back all at the same time. I finally decided that I must remove my son's shoes and try to get the underwear off. (It was his favorite pair of Mr. Incredible underwear, sorry Mr. Incredible, but I don't know how to help you out of this mess...) I got the underwear off and I remembered that my husband had shared with me something that his mom did with his poopy underwear when he was potty training. He had told me that she held it in the toilet while she flushed it and sort of moved the underwear up and down in the swish of water to clean it so it could be safely placed in the washing machine. So my barefoot, underwear free, poo poo painted son turned and watched as I held the underwear with my left had and flushed the potty with my right hand. I quickly shook the underwear in the swishing water to wash it clean when the suction power of the flush whisked the underwear out of my hand and down the drain. My son's eyes got as big as quarters and he let out a cry, "Mommy you flushed my underpants." I couldn't believe it. What had I done wrong? I didn't know that I should have had a two-handed grip on the underwear after the flush to keep them from being sucked away. My husband didn't tell me that part!

I comforted my son the best I could without soiling myself. Just then another little boy pulled back the curtain with a curious look on his face. I quickly grabbed the curtain and said, "We've had an accident. We need some privacy." The teacher came in and scooted the boy away as if to say, "There is nothing to see here. Please keep moving." Little did she know. My poor son was now completely traumatized. I pulled some pull ups from my purse and got them on my son to simply contain his messy bottom. I really didn't know what else to do. I thought about the hose right outside for a split second. But then thought that it might be embarrassing for my son to have his mother hosing him off outside the church classroom window for all his peers to see. I am not sure how it happened but he had poop all the way up to his neck on the inside of his shirt. I never thought to pack extra shirts for my son. I put on his extra pair of shorts that I had so confidently remembered to grab on the way out of the house "just in case." I sent him to the sink to wash his hands. In my mind I wished I could have put his whole body in the sink. I was still in complete shock.

Just then the female teacher came in with some Clorox wipes. She asked me if I needed a bag to put the soiled clothes in. I just said sheepishly, "Uh, no that's okay. I think I have got it pretty well cleaned up." What I really wanted to say is that I, super mom had simply just flushed the whole mess down the toilet. No need for an old plastic bag. She brought me a bag anyway. Maybe I could just put my son in the bag. I just looked at her and said, "I thought that my son just peed. Good grief." She replied, "You mean the other teacher did not tell you when he came to get you??" Just then I heard from the back corner of the classroom, "I was afraid you would not come if I told you how bad it was." Well thanks, sir, for your graciousness. You are right. I might have slipped out the side door and gone for latte if I really knew what was going on.

I continued to clean the mess as best as I could all while trying to reach my husband on his cell phone so that he could get the plumbing crew to the 3 year old bathroom. I can hear the page going out over the walkie talkies... "Uh, yes Bill, that's right. A pastor's wife has just flushed some Mr. Incredible underpants down the toilet." I had visions of the whole wing of the building being shut down so the toilet could be removed and the floor dug up to fix the problem. My husband had a class to teach and I knew that I would not be able to reach him after he arrived at his class. I was panicking. I was trying to figure out how to tell the teacher about flushing the underwear. I went into the stall and prayed that God would somehow keep the septic system functioning. I covered my eyes and pushed the handle on the toilet again. No overflow. Thank God. Just then my husband appeared and ask, "Everything okay?" "Come here please," I said anxiously. He came in the classroom and I whispered to him, "I flushed the underwear by accident," He replied, "I will call maintenance after my class." Oh good. I had time to get out of dodge before I had to look someone in the eye and acknowledge my stupidity. I was already very embarrassed to march out of the class with my son who looked like he had been playing in the mud. He stunk. It took me 15 minutes to get him to the point of being able to transport him. I apologized for everything while slipping out of classroom, careful not to make eye contact. "Don't flush the toilet anymore tonight," I said under my breath.

I retrieved my daughter from her class and had to explain why we had to go home. "And mommy swished my underwear down the toilet," my son added. My daughter, of course, began with the questions, "Are we coming back? Why are we leaving? Where is my brother's underwear? What will happen to them? Is the toilet broken? Why do I have to go home?" Yep. Just another ordinary day. Poopy sons and inquisitive daughters.

Talk about eating crow. The moral of the story is: Never brag about how well your child does with anything. They will find a way to make you look like an idiot. And never, ever, ever under any circumstances give your child undiluted apple juice before church.