I’m a Virgo, we don’t like change.  I’m a little like a cat in that respect.  I will likely pee outside the litter box if given too much change at one time (you like that visual?).  Pregnancy was about the only time I embraced change and rolled around in it like a glorious catnip filled toy (look at me, on a roll with the metaphors and similes).  How I deal with change is organization and schedules.  Not to say that I’m not messy or cluttered but I work best when I have a plan and schedule.  I guess it was practice for life with baby and life after baby.

So lately, my life has been all about change.  I had Zoey and she continues to change and grow daily.  It’s amazing.  Pictures that I took of her just 2 weeks ago after so different then the ones I took Sunday.  She still looks like me but less like an infant and more like a little girl – a sweet little cuddly baby girl. …I started a new job which I’m enjoying but it’s a total change from what type of law I was doing.  Zoey goes to daycare.  Mornings are hectic.  It’s been 2 weeks of getting used to a new schedule and I thought I had it down.  I congratulated myself about getting out of the house on time every morning, not being late, even being able to stop and get donuts one morning for my co-workers.  Yeah me!

And then we have this morning…

Hubby changes the baby’s diaper and feeds her some prunes while I’m in the shower.  This morning he says, with a smirk, “she ate an ass-load of prunes…har, har, har…” (we give the baby prunes to keep her regular).  “Really?” I say, “she ate a lot of prunes?”  Oh boy, I think.  A 7 month olds’ digestive tract is not that long…can I hand her off to daycare before she has a code brown bummie blowout (don’t judge, you know you’d do the same thing…)?  The answer was no, no I could not.

The last 20 minutes at the house in the morning are as follows:  nurse Zoey, check dog bowls for food and water, change Zoey’s diaper, load the 47 bags of stuff I need into the car (why doesn’t motherhood come with a sherpa?), put on my work clothes and load baby into the car.  No room for anything else.  Nothing.  Not a thing.  You follow what’s about to happen here?

Nurse?  check.  Dogs? check.  Diaper? check.  Loaded car?  check.  I’m standing in the closet with my skirt and tank top on, fishing out my sweater and I hear, “Farrrrrrrrrrrttttttttttt………..”  Oh no.  Oh nooooo….I look out and she’s sitting in her bouncy seat with a smile of such relief on her face that I almost didn’t notice the trickle of brown poop running from her adorable little jeans shorts.  Oh crap.  Literally, oh crap.

At this point, I’m a deer in the headlights.  We are deviating from the schedule here and I’m not equipt for that!!!  Do I strip off my work clothes first and change her or risk getting poop on my new pencil skirt and cardigan?  I’m closer to the tub than the nursery, do I just strip her down in the bathroom, hose her off and start over with a whole new costume change?  Do I just grab her and run to the nursery and risk a trail of poop that inevitably the dogs will walk in?

I opted for “B” and stripped her down in the bathroom, hosed her off, yelled for the dogs to “stop licking that damn diaper!!” and changed her into a very cute little romper with a giraffe on the front.

And I will have you know, I was only 5 minutes late to work…