Non-Domestic Mama: What Happened to His Pants?!

Getting to church on time is a challenge for our family. It seems that no matter what we do we are always late. Yesterday was no exception.

Now, I know all you organized, get everywhere on time people, will have plenty of tips and tricks to offer, but they won't work. The universe conspires against us. Truly it does.

Last week we took a trip to my hometown to visit my parents. My husband wanted to visit some former work colleagues who were previously working there but have finished up their project and are now going on to other things in other locations.

Packing for our trip I had the foresight to find, wash, pair, and put aside clothes for Sunday. I knew we would be returning on Saturday and there was not a chance in the world I would happen to do laundry or even think to prepare clothes for Sunday after we got home. So, Sunday came.

We usually go to church in the evening. It has just worked out best with nap schedules and kids behaving least badly. Of course this often means we lose track of the time and realize 20 minutes before Mass starts that we have to get everyone dressed, or possibly showered and dressed, and drive to church, and get inside, and get seats. Usually this is when I realize I have not done laundry, and none of us have clean church appropriate clothing. This is also the point where we realize my daughter, with the shoe fascination, has managed to walk off with, and very successfully hide, one of each pair of shoes everyone owns. The frantic hunt for just one pair, any pair, of something resembling footwear begins. At the point where I am willing to accept mismatched footwear, we realize she has magically managed to lose all the right shoes. Two left feet anyone?

Yesterday was not one of those days. Not only was all the clothing prepared in advance, we also checked the time more than an hour in advance. I dressed the kids. Sometimes this is a risk because they will inevitably spill something on themselves if they are dressed any more than 15 seconds before actually walking out the door. They were totally ready with shoes on and everything. I endeavored in vain to get my daughter to allow me to put her hair up in a pretty bow and settled instead with the few swipes of the hairbrush I could catch while running after her.

There we were, all ready, with more than 20 minutes to go before walking out the door. Ok, now this is also a problem. Some people might just leave and get there a bit early. We know from personal experience that getting our children to sit through an entire hour without erupting is a miracle. Getting them to sit for an hour and 20 minutes? Laughable. Sitting in the car for 20 minutes before going in yields similar results. Not advisable under any circumstances. You know what is less of a disruption? Arriving to church 5 minutes late. I know. Bad.

Anyway 20 minutes to go. Usually under these circumstances one of the following occurs. The aforementioned spilling of substances on their Sunday clothes, potty accidents, possible fits erupting from the lack of understanding why they are not being allowed to consume blue popsicles or possibly melted cheese covered in ketchup. You know the messiest substances they could possibly think up. Or, we simply lose track of time . . .

Now, if we make it past this point and manage to get to the door in time, on most occasions, the minute we step foot out the door we will hear those magical words. "Mama, I have to go potty." Usually accompanied by appropriately urgent dancing. Or, "Mama, I poopoo." Accompanied by appropriately urgent smell. Note, we of course made sure everyone was properly changed and pottied mere moments before. No matter. Something about leaving the house gives their bladder/bowels the incentive it needs.

Yesterday we magically bypassed all these holdups and ordeals. The kids were ready. We did not lose track of time. They went to the bathroom at the appropriate time and magically found all sets of shoes. We were out the door and in the car with seconds to spare. As my husband buckled my son in, Peanut lifted his arm and we saw it. The black smear all down his arm.

What the heck is that?!

My husband grabbed the wipees and cleaned off his arm as he noticed more of the gooey substance on the front of Peanut's pants.

"Oh, I gave him Junior Mints yesterday on the trip home." My husband remembered. Peanut responded, "Ya, I kept dropping them and dropping them."

Information that would have been beneficial yesterday! As we drove to church we both realized that those Junior Mints were probably all sitting in the bottom of his carseat. They had been out in the 100 degree Texas sun all day long. He was now sitting right on top of them . . .

Oh, please please no. What would we do?

Sure enough when we arrived and took him out of the car seat, this is what we saw.

Why did we actually unload the car for once? If only we had left the suitcase in the car we would have a change of clothes. I frantically ransacked the car for something ANYTHING that may have somehow fallen out or been left behind. I would settle for a bag of dirty clothes at this point. Anything had to be better than the alternative.

No, we had been thorough. Everything had been taken out of the car. We had nothing. NOTHING.

I am at the point of considering which of us will miss the first half of Mass and take him home to change him.

Then I had a brilliant idea.

Turn the shorts inside out!! Genious!!! Do you think anyone will notice? Well, it's probably better than the alternative.

So, I did my best to tuck the white pockets back up inside and rolled up the waistband a bit so his shirt would be long enough to cover the top of the pockets.