Second Time Around

One of the major changes I see in myself as a second time mom is my ability to pack a minimalist diaper bag. I no longer feel compelled to pack for any and all possible situations we might face on a trip to the grocery store. Gone are the days where I heft a monster bag filled with Mylicon for gas, Tylenol for fever, 12 diapers, a full pack of wipes. 6 binkies, 3 changes of clothes, 4 burp cloths...you get the idea. Now, for the little daily outings, I frequently just carry my purse, toss in a few diapers, a travel pack of wipes, a binkie and pair of panties for Hailey. Unfortunately, the merits of my streamlined packing were called into question today at our local McDonald's. Hailey, Parker and I headed out, purse in hand, for lunch and playtime down the street. Upon our arrival, someone must have mentioned to Parker that it was time for me to eat because he became highly agitated and inconsolable, as he can only do when I want to enjoy a meal. So I picked him up, rocked him, tried to appease him with his binkie, but all of my attempts were met by screaming grumpiness. The last resort is always a shot of the good stuff- a little boob juice to calm him down. Sadly, breastfeeding in the play area at McDonald's is not the easiest, most discreet thing to do, especially with my mini mom pack which did not include a blanket. But I figured it out, latched him on, quieted him down, and ate with my other hand. As it turns out this did provide adequate relaxation as it was met with an explosion of epic proportions. A little grunting and groaning, all without letting go of me, and out came an avalanche of poop. It vibrated my booth. It filled his diaper. It ran up his back, out of his huggies, onto his gymboree onesie, and into my hand. I guess I should be thankful I was eating with the other one. All that, and of course he wasn't finished nursing. By the grace of god, the people Jona was supposed to interview didn't show so he was on his way to meet us for lunch. He stayed with Hailey while I took the super dooper pooper to the bathroom to clean him up. And then I remembered that the NEW me didn't over pack. The NEW me brought only the essentials. The NEW me failed to bring a change of clothes for her 7 week old infant. The NEW me suddenly entered a new class of women who bring their babies to fast food restaurants with no shirt on. AND did I mention I didn't even have a blanket! So the poor little poopin' machine had to sit there with a burp cloth, the only one I had, over his chilly little boobies, wearing only pants and socks. We're high class all the way baby.