Jami Presents: Motherhood, a Tour of Public Restrooms, in Three Acts

One of the parts of motherhood that I don't recall anyone mentioning to me in advance is the extensive knowledge of local restrooms one gains. This happens in three stages: Stage 1: Preggo Mommy Must Pee Now - here I am 6 months into this fantastic adventure called pregnancy and one of the fun little side effects is that I have to pee approximately every 17 minutes, or more if I've been anywhere near any beverage in the past day. This means, that when running errands, I get to go at every single establishment I visit, sometimes more than once. Friends' houses, church, WalMart, library, port-a-john at the park, you name it. If I've been there in the last two months, I can tell you where the ladies' room is. Stage 2: If You're Away From Home, Your Infant Will Poo - the second exciting part of this tour of the loos in the one in which you discover which establishments provide changing tables with bad planning (I'm talking to you, Olive Garden where putting down the table blocks the main door), which has nice ones, which has icky, broken or scary ones, and which has no changing place at all, not counting the floor. Your diaper-wearing angel possesses an innate sense of when is least convenient for changes and chooses those moments to explode. You think I'm joking. Just wait. You'll also learn that you should have packed one more diaper, and forgetting the wipes is more terrifying and disgusting than any horror movie you've ever seen. Stage 3: Potting Training Means Lurking - finally, you think you're through the horrors of extended potty time. You are wrong. Now, you have several new fun activities. Some children refuse to use any unfamiliar potty, meaning that you'll end up with about a bazillion accidents or not leaving the house. Others insist on trying every possible toilet existing in the universe, so you'll be back to the "If I've been there, I know where the bathroom is" Added to these are the exiting additions of Fear of the Self Flusher (these terrify toddlers more than Santa, Costumed Characters and the Boogie Man combined), I Can't Reach the Sink (trying holding a kid and the kind of faucets that have to be held to be on, and using soap, and actually washing), Lurking While He/She Poops (because nothing makes you feel more like a criminal than standing around outside a stall saying "are you done now? Can Mommy PLEASE come in?"), Stalls Are Too Little for Two, and my personal favorite, Announcing to Strangers ("I'm pooping! There's two poops! Mommy is going to pee pee after we flush . . AAHHHHHH IT'S FLUSHING BY ITSELF!!!!!" ) My son also has wandered out of the bathrooms with his behind hanging out of the back of his pants, because he pulled up the front and that's good enough for him. At Giant Eagle, he ran out of the bathroom, pants down, screaming the first time that the autoflusher caught him off guard. Ah motherhood. Nothing like it.