Now I know the content of this post has probably been written before by other mommy bloggers. Truth be told, probably written better than this one. But it wouldn’t be write (pun intended) to write about the everyday dealings of being a mom without openly discussing the public enemy to all mothers.
Public Restrooms… DAH-DAH-DAAAAAAH!
It’s bound to happen. Sometimes kids have to pee and poo when you aren’t at home. Partly because children have a super heightened spidey sense on when the perfectly WRONG time to have to use the bathroom is. You can insist they use the restroom before you leave, sure. But in the comfort and sanitized confines of your home their tiny bladders appear to be the size of an igloo cooler and can house not only the 3 Capri Suns they chugged down fraternity style but also some of your Route 44 Cherry Limeade. Chances are you have been herding cats for the last hour and are just thankful they actually have their shoes on after asking them 3 times. Instead of being 10 minutes late you’re only 5 minutes late and so when they maintain their stance that they don’t have to pee you cowardly choose to believe them. Knowing if you press the issue and MAKE them go your 5 minute tardiness will surely turn into 10 minutes.
In the deepest parts of your soul you know your kid is going to have to go the second you get on the highway or as soon as they see a gas station. But you shrug it off as a learning opportunity for the kids and fail to remember that over half of kid’s learning opportunities will directly inconvenience YOU!
The problem with public restrooms is that they are open to the disgusting public to defecate on. Also, kids don’t tend to care about, worry about or even acknowledge the existence of germs. I would personally like to dress myself and kids in a chemical hazmat suit before entering any public restroom but since that’s not a logical option I go with the standard mother freak out strategy. This usually consists of me irrationally yelling DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING! WAIT! Then I begin to sanitize as many surfaces as possible before my kids unmindfully begin to caress them all. They drop their pants to the floor, essentially sweeping the pee splattered ground with their Garanimal ensemble. Then in the most care free fashion they climb onto the toilet maintaining their balance by placing both hands fully on the seat where approximately 927 others have sat their bare-ass that week. I shiver at the filth they are embracing and instruct them to please keep their hands in their laps. Insisting that they will fall in if they don’t hold onto something they try to maintain their balance by griping the toilet paper dispenser and handicap railing. In my mind, everything within the borders of a public stall is covered in microscopic doo doo bugs. When they are finished they inch their way off the seat, all the while scraping every germ imaginable off the seat and onto their butt-cheeks.
Boys and girls are different in a restroom. Even though boys can stand up and effectively discard their urine without touching anything, little boys haven’t discovered the value of a clean weiner yet. Since Logan isn’t tall enough to use a standard size toilet standing up but is adamant about his “big boy” status he refuses to sit down and do it. What usually ends up happening is he rises to his tippy toes as high as he can and disgustingly places, uh, himself on the middle rim section of the seat. That 2 ½ inch section is probably the filthiest place in the entire world. Where all the left over droplets of pee land. I cringe. If anyone is in the restroom with us this is typically what they hear: Hold it buddy. Don't lay it down. Lift it up. Don't touch that. Hurry.
I’m still don't understand why women's restrooms have a diaper changing station but no teeny tiny urinals for the mothers with teeny tiny boys. That would improve my hatred for public restrooms a little bit.
To top it all off, when the kids are done lathering themselves in fecal matter they joyfully skip out of the restroom completely passing up my favorite part of the entire experience, WASHING YOUR HANDS! Then I carry on with the second half of the mother freak out strategy which consists of me dousing them in Purell.