Stopping for the umpteenth time during our trip up to the North Georgia Mountains; to change yet another diaper, can get more than frustrating after having to do it in the car – in the middle of nowhere. Every year we take a family trip to the same location – it seems like every year that we go, I’m either pregnant or have a newborn to carry along. This being our third child; our first boy – made this trip even better than the previous trips. I’m not so well experienced with changing boy diapers – and well changing a boy in the car is a very tedious task.

The day began like any other: making breakfast, getting everyone dressed, teeth brushed and packing our enormous diaper bag. After going about the normal routine that morning – the five of us packed into the car and were on our way. Our eight year old daughter begins the ever unnerving “she’s touching me” bit and our four year old yells back, “sissy took my blanket” number. The party pooper I am turns to tell them both, “quit bickering and get along, we want to have a good day of no fighting and arguing.” I don’t know why I even try because it seems the more I tell them not to do something, the more they do it.

After about thirty minutes into the trip – our newborn son starts fussing. We of course find a place to stop so that I can feed him a bottle – but then it would figure no sooner than I feed him he makes a huge mess; all up his back. “uh, honey I think we have a problem.” I start to inform my husband. Well of course he gets agitated cause we’re on a schedule and you know all men, they’re the pilots and we’re the “co-pilots.”

“We don’t have much time, can you take him in the gas station and change him – quickly?” he of course gives me that superfluous look.

“I can’t take him in that filthy gas station bathroom to change him – he’s a newborn, duh.” Sarcastically I comment.

“There’s nothing wrong with taking him in there, I’m sure it’s pretty clean.” He returns dryly.

“Would you honestly go in there to use the bathroom? The girls don’t even want to go in there.” Our girls are very picky about being dirty, so I had to use them as an example to get my point across.

Finally after twenty minutes of arguing back and forth, I (of course) win and have the kids pile out of the back seat so I can begin the “fun” task of changing our son. Note: don’t ever try to change a newborn boy – in the back seat of the car nonetheless, it’s not recommended. I didn’t know the extent of the job before I took it; baby poop all up the back, coming out the sides and the icing on the cake – I stuck my hand in it “Yum!”

“Honey I think I’m going to need more wipes, we’ve got a gusher here.” I playfully stated while raising my poop covered hand up for him to see. And just like any man would say, “Don’t get that on the seats!” panic filled his voice, “I just cleaned the car yesterday.”

“It’s not like we don’t have leather seats, it’ll just wipe right off.” Like any woman would say – right?

“Ewwwwww! Mommies got baby poop on her hands.” Our four year old Lee said making a face of disgust, sticking her tongue out and shaking her head she added, “Mommy don’t get it on the seat.”

“That is so gross mom, if you get that on my side I’m never sitting there ever again.” An oddly look on Brooke, our eight year olds face told me she was serious.

“Do you know how many times mommy changed yawls diapers and accidentally stuck my hand in your poop? More times than I care to talk about. Or should I remind you all of the one time you,” pointing to Brooke, “were sitting in bed playing with your own poop.” I was trying so hard not to bust out laughing at the memory of walking into my daughter’s room one morning to find her in her crib, diaper off and her playing with the brown stuff inside.

“Mom don’t go there okay.” She told me embarrassed at the story she knew so well.

Needless to say, I went about the job carefully after getting my hand full of poop. I enlisted the help of each family member: one to hand wipes to me, the other to get clean clothes out of the diaper bag and one to aid in the cleaning of the initial mess. We were like an assembly line – the baby had it made. The people coming in and out of the gas station probably thought we were crazy hearing us bickering, laughing, hollering and racing around from all car doors.

Forty five minutes later, we were back on the road headed towards our destination when out of the blue – our four year old says, “I gotta go potty.” Me being the impatient one turns and asks, “Can you hold it?” I should’ve known better than to ask a four year old whether or not they could hold going potty or not- cause of course the answer was a quick, “NOOOOO! I gotta go right now…”

My husband becoming agitated from already being behind on schedule finds the nearest service station to stop at. Of course the place would have to be a small place with only one rest room – which just happened to be “out of order.” Then it happens that the next three places we stopped at also had they’re rest rooms “out of order.” Only adding to problems, my oldest daughter then adds she too has to go potty.

Now we’re rushing to find the first working (clean) rest room. Five service stations later, we struck gold – a working rest room. My husband and I both breathe a sigh of relief. Glancing at each other I turn to open the rear car door to let the girls out – but it would figure as we’re unloading another family has the same problem and beats us to the punch. The two of us swear under our breathe and look at each other with disbelief.

Once the girls and I finally make it to the bathroom, Lee tells me she doesn’t have to go anymore. I’m already flabbergasted at this point, so I tell her, “Your going to go, you said you had to go so bad and that’s what your going to do cause we’re not stopping again.” I just receive an innocent look from her – then of course I can’t get mad; she’s just so cute. Brooke daughter then jumps in to inform me that she’s still gotta go, so youngling in tow, we leave Brooke to do her business alone. Back at the car a whole other series of events seems to be taking place.

Immediately I see my husband holding my son who appears to be covered in spit up. His face shows his nerves are rapidly unraveling and needs a minute to collect himself – mom to the rescue, as always. Scooping Allen out of my husband’s arms, I feel the anxiousness emanating from daddy. Then as I remove our son from his arms completely I realize why – his shirt is covered in a yellow colored stain, one I knew all to well.

“He started chocking on his spit up, so I took him out of his car seat. Obviously he had a lot to choke on, but I think I got most of it up – on me.” Clearly expressing his agitation with the current happenings by the facial expression he was eyeballing me with.

“Alright… let me get a change of clothes out of the diaper bag, you get Lee in her seat and check on Brooke while I change this little stinker – and then we’ll get back on the road.” Rushing to the passenger side of the car, I hurriedly shuffle through the clutter I call a diaper bag to find clean clothes for the baby. My wonderfully frustrated husband goes about the tasks blurted out to him and then we yet again try to set out on the path to a good time.

Finally for the first time since we left out – we hear nothing but our thoughts. Due to my quick thinking, I began the quite game once we had all piled into the car again at the last stop. Our nerves are frayed and we all just needed to have a minute to collect ourselves. Just as we begin to think we might make it to the finish line – Lee just happens to remember she forgot her Dora doll in the bathroom that we just left.

Hysterically she carries on while my husband and I try to figure out what to do. “Mommy… nanny bought it for me – I can’t leave it nanny will be mad I lost it.” Ever innocent, she’s right – reluctantly we find some where to turn around. I know my husband is thinking what I’m thinking from the look he shoots my way – why today?

Well, once we get back to the gas station – I quickly jump out of the car before it even comes to a complete stop and rush to the rest room to find Dora. But it would figure, Dora’s gone. I begin going through a hundred scenarios of what would happen if I told her Dora was gone – only to conclude no way is a good way other than to just come right out and tell her.

Crying, lots of it, fills the back seat – which in turn wakes the baby – which then leads to a total uproar.

“Honey we’ll just buy you a new one, it’s not that big a deal.” Trying desperately to console my crying four year old, knowing it would just make matters worse.

“Baby if you get a new one it will be nice and clean and won’t have stains on it like the other one.” My husband also trying to find a resolution – seeing that my words are just sailing off into the wind.

“I don’t want a new one, nanny didn’t but it for me – I want the one nanny bought me.” Sobbing.

“But Lee nanny doesn’t have to know you lost the other one.” Brooke then tries to help – unfortunalty she finds it’s not much help after all.

“Hey!” A voice comes from the open door of the service station. We all turn our heads to look – a woman standing at the door has Dora in her hands. “Is this what ya’ll are looking for?”

Relieved I practically scream “Yes!”

You could see the look of disbelief written all over my husbands face from his jaw sitting on the ground.

“I found this on the sink in the bathroom when I went in to clean. I figured I ought to hang onto it just incase some one came a looking for it.” An Ungodly large smile on the woman’s face showed that she knew she’d just saved me.

I walked over to her and smiled when she handed the doll to me, “Thank you so much, our lives would have been miserable without it – you’re my hero.”

“Dora!” instantly going from crying to joyful Lee yelled when she seen what I was holding. She scrambled from her car seat to me to embrace the doll. At that moment I realized just how affectionate children can be towards the smallest things.

Needless to say we finally made it to our location after having one of the most peculiar family trips we’ve taken so far. The rest of the day went as planned and we all enjoyed just being with each other and of course Dora. Since that trip we always over pack – you can never have to much stuff with you, just in case. The great part about the chaos of that trip was the realization of how even children can love unconditionally – we could all learn something from our children if we just sit back once in a while and watch them. Of course it’s always great to have a changing table when changing diapers instead of a backseat – but it’s the wonderful memories in life that make trips like these so remarkable.

About The Author

Currently I am a stay at home mom full time and part time freelance writer and poet. I’m at the moment taking classes from Long Ridge Writers Group and also working on my first novel. My poetry has been published by Watermark Press and ISP – also I’ve had the blessing of accepting awards for four poems published in the last two years.

I maintain my own website for promoting my work and update it regularly with news on upcoming work being published. When I’m not writing I’m reading a good James Patterson book or doing chores – although I must say my favorite past time is spending time with my family creating great silly memories I can share with people.