Pooping Kids and Traffic Don't Mix

Jun 10, 2009

This is for all of my “mommy friends” – and a few “mommy-to-be” friends. For those of you who are moms, you’re going to empathize. For those of you awaiting that first baby, I’m about to scare the crap out of you! In any case, you are all going to be thankful that you weren’t me on this day a few years ago!

When my daughter was in preschool, she went to school in the heart of downtown Austin, thus, I always had to fight rush-hour traffic both to and from her school each time she went. When I would pick her up, I tried to get her before 5 pm to make it a little better, but on this one day, I had a 4 pm dr’s appt and so I was running late.

When we finally got on the highway, traffic was AWFUL – the worst I’ve ever seen it in Austin. I heard the radio DJ say, “There’s good news and bad news. The good news is that there are no accidents. The bad news is that traffic is terrible.” He wasn’t kidding. I’d like to say I was going 2 mph, because my wheels were moving, but my odometer wasn’t registering anything.

Anyway, things were okay for awhile. Jordan (age 4 at the time) was looking at books in the back and Bennett (age 1 at the time) was babbling, when all of a sudden Jordan frantically announces, “I have to go POO-POO!”


I look at where I am on the road. I’m in the center lane and there is no way I can possibly even move over to the side of the road because the cars next to me are barely moving also.

I tell her, “You HAVE to hold it.”

She says, “I can’t!”

I say, “Jordan, you HAVE to. I can’t pull over. As soon as I can, I’ll pull over to the side and you can go on the grass.”

She tells me okay and we continue driving for about 3 minutes when suddenly, I smell it.

I say, “Jordan, did you just poop in your pants?”

She tells me, “I TOLD you I couldn’t hold it!”

I look in the rearview mirror and I see that she is pushing herself up on her booster seat with her hands, her head thrown back, trying to keep her butt in the air.


I tell her to NOT sit in it and that I will pull over as soon as I can. Unfortunately, she had to ride this way for at least 10 more minutes.

Finally, I see an opening and I pull over to the side of the road. I turn on my hazards, get out of the car and get Jordan out. She sits behind me, so I walk her onto the other side of the car. She is frantic that cars are going to see her butt so I open Bennett’s car door to block their view. My plan is that I am going to use Bennett’s baby wipes (thank goodness I had his diaper bag!) to wipe her down, take off her underwear and let her just sit without panties, on her dress, for the rest of the ride home.

Well, I am wiping her down for about 10 seconds when suddenly, she begins screaming at the top of her lungs and starts trying to get away. I don’t even need to ask WHY she is screaming. I already know. The grass on the side of the road was rather high and so we didn’t realize that when we stepped on it that we had actually stepped on a fire ant mound. Ants were swarming (and I mean SWARMING) up our legs.

My first thought, naturally, was a curse word. Fire ant bites HURT. And worse, I am severely allergic to them. The two times I’ve gotten bit in the past, I’ve ended up in the emergency room needing steroid shots.

So, here I am on the side of the highway, in rush hour traffic, with a daughter whose legs and butt are covered in poop, fire ants are swarming up her legs and she’s trying to get away from me by climbing over her brother and his carseat to get back in the car.

I’ve had better days.

And, at the moment I realized, isn’t this the epitome of being a mom? Here I am, wiping poop off my daughter with one hand and swatting ants off her with the other, all the while, standing in the middle of this mound as the fire ants continue to swarm their way up my legs and make dinner of my skin.

But, what mom doesn’t take care of their child first?

Well, Jordan finally got away from me and climbed over Bennett in her frantic dash to get back to her seat. He, of course, begins to scream and then I’m worried that ants fell off of her and onto him. (Fortunately, after a thorough inspection once we got home, he didn’t get bitten.)

I got back in the car after swatting my legs as best I could. I took my shoes off and start to drive. I could feel my foot swelling as I made my way back into traffic. The car, of course, REEKED of poop.

Jordan spent the next 45 minutes (yes, we still had 45 minutes to go) crying hysterically in the back over her bites. I finally said, “You just need to STOP crying!”

She answered back, “Daddy says I can cry if I’m hurt or I’m sad and I’m HURT!”

She had a point there.

To make a long story a little bit longer . . . we got home, she got cleaned up, I took lots of Benadryl. I was then in misery for the next 2 days, with a 102 degree fever from those little suckers and a nasty looking, swollen foot.

See . . . I told you that you wouldn’t have wanted to be me! But gosh, can’t you moms just FEEL my pain and know that, in a heartbeat, it could be YOU on the side of that road???


kimberly said...

That is one of the best stories I've ever read.

My only side-of-the-road potty break story is so boring. My son did NOT want to pee in the empty Snapple bottle. We were in a city area, no grass or trees around, yet no restaurants or the like to go into... so I pulled into an empty parking lot and suggested he go behind a dumpster. NO WAY was he going for that idea; he broke down in tears, as if I was torturing him to even suggest such a thing. Plan B: I found an empty Snapple bottle in the car. I tried to make it seem like peeing in it would be fun ("c'mon, it'd be cool, I wish I could pee into a bottle"), but he thought it was the most bizarre idea in the world and looked at me like I was crazy.

After holding it as long as he possibly could and resisting every idea I had, he finally peed in the bottle and I threw it in the dumpster.

"There, now THAT wasn't so hard!"
Wimpy 5 year old.
Be glad you have a bottle to pee in, you unappreciative little thing.

Kelly Seiler said...

Thanks for the comment, Kimberly! :-) I wish I could pee in a Snapple bottle! Boys don't know how good they have it! :-)

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