Road Trip

This weekend we tackled our first road trip with a baby. Mark's parents hadn't seen Mr. Mister since he was 2 weeks old, so we decided to make the trip to Pittsburgh for the weekend. The plan was for Mr. Mister and me to pick Mark up at work on Friday afternoon and leave from there. I was pretty proud of myself for packing our stuff, packing the car, and leaving in enough time to run some errands before arriving at Mark's work early enough to feed Mr. Mister before we hit the road.

I knew it was all going too well though...the way everything fit into the car (suitcases, the pack-n-play, the bouncer, the play mat and several other baby accessories), my early departure from home, the productivity of my errands, the beautiful weather for driving...it was all too good to be true....something difficult had to happen eventually. And it did.

I wanted Mr. Mister to wear his outfit that says, "Going to Grandma's" on it. I knew Mark's mom would love to see him arrive in it. But I also knew that a poopy blow out was inevitable so I waited all day to put it on him until right before we got in the car to leave. I pulled into the parking lot of Mark's office, found a somewhat remote parking spot, and proceeded to feed Mr. Mister while I talked on the phone to a friend. As I had him sitting up to burp, I heard the oh so familiar sound of a rumble in the diaper. Then I smelled it. And when I can smell it I know that it's not confined to just the diaper anymore. Sure enough, I picked him up and saw that the runny poop had leaked from the side of his diaper, down his leg, out the bottom of his pants and onto my nursing pillow! His pant leg was soaked in it and in my efforts to get out of the car as quickly as possible, it spread to the seat and my clothes.

Needless to say, the "Going to Grandma's" outfit was ruined. I set up shop to change him on the grass. I wonder what someone would have thought as they walked by the chaos...the car doors still open, his clothes thrown in the grass, dirty wipes in a pile, the contents of the diaper bag strewn everywhere, and a crying baby. It was quite the scene, I'm sure.

I finally got him changed but left everything thrown around the grass because I was still trying to console my crying son. As I stood holding him, watching the door for Mark to come out and come to my rescue, Mr. Mister spit up down the front of me. Icing on the cake.

Thankfully, the rest of our trip was pretty uneventful, besides driving through pouring rain from Columbus to Pittsburgh. But Mr. Mister slept peacefully in the backseat and we only had to stop once to feed him (this time the feeding was much less dramatic). We made it to Grandma and Grandpa's and enjoyed a very fun weekend with them and Mark's sister and her family. Mr. Mister did great being passed around (at least 12 different people held him throughout the weekend) and smiled at everyone who held him. I wonder why he won't let me put him down today!