R is for Rookie

So, you aren't going to get another post about ironing. Sometimes good stuff happens just when you need a blogging idea for NaBloPoMo.

A week or so ago, another writer asked about rookie parenting mistakes on her blog. You know, like, did you ever leave your six month old alone with a box of wipes? Or did you ever run out of the house to go shopping without the kids and take the diaper bag instead of a purse?

I thought for a while and couldn't come up with any rookie mistakes. "I guess I just have a handle on all of this stuff," I thought. I could think of several of Daniel's rookie mistakes, but I didn't feel like ratting him out on the internet, so I didn't post any comments at all.

I should have knocked on wood, or whatever superstitious people do, because a rookie mistake happened today, and it was a doozy.

My brother, Dillon, and I went to a local Mexican restaurant for dinner tonight. Brother babysat for me this afternoon, and I was paying him back for his time. We rushed out of the house and I grabbed Dillon, my purse, and my keys. When we got to the restaurant, I realized I had forgotten the diaper bag. Woops.

Well, I always keep a few extra diapers in the trunk, and Dillon is as regular as the noontime train, if you know what I mean, so I didn't sweat it.

We ate our meal, and I was getting out my wallet, when I discovered Dillon making the classic look of concentration.

This is when time.... began.... to.... slow.... down....

I pulled out the back of his diaper to check status just in time to catch the volcano erupting. Seriously. Did I forget to mention that he has had a touch of IBS the past couple of days? Oh, yeah? Well, that is cause I FORGOT.

I sent Brother to the car for a diaper, and I shoved extra napkins down Dillon's pants. I started sweating. Brother was gone for an extremely long time. He finally showed up, empty handed. Oh, yeah!!!! I used the backup diapers last week when I ran out! Someone, please change places with me!

Dillon and I went for a walk. We scouted the restaurant for any toddlers whose mommies might be better prepared than I was. Nope. There weren't many people out, much less kids.

But there was a newborn about three tables down. She hadn't pinked up yet from being born, and her mom was slamming a margarita. Must've been a long 9 months, but who am I to judge?

I tentatively approached her. "I am so sorry to interrupt your meal, but I have a favor to ask. I left my diaper bag at home and his corndog just did the luge through his colon. Do you have an extra diaper?"

She was so pleased to help that she sent me off with a diaper AND some wipes. Sweet lady. Ignore whatever I said about the drink.

I cleaned Dillon up, and put on his newborn bikini. It didn't even fasten on the sides. I pulled his pants up over what was essentially a glorified paper towel, and we were on our way.

So you would think I had learned my lesson! But I didn't restock the trunk yet, or check the diaper bag for plenty of supplies. I came straight in here to blog.

I was so relieved to not have to write about ironing again!