Would You Park in A Handicap Parking Spot?

Would you park in a handicap-designated parking space if you weren't handicapped? Of course not! So why do people feel like it's ok to park in "New and Expectant Mom Parking" spots if they don't fall into the category?

So, honestly, that's not really my beef at the moment... but it ties into what frosted my cookies in a MAJOR way today.

I needed to bust out of the house this afternoon, and decided to take Miss Paige on a shopping trip to Ross (you know, the discount shopping store akin to TJ Maxx and Marshalls). I was on a mission to find a cute, inexpensive, non-maternity sun dress that would fit my very-prego body for a BBQ this weekend. After scouring the racks, I found a few very cute options. BUT - given my current beachball shape - I wasn't too confident they would fit. So I decided to go try them on (something I honestly RARELY do - I'd rather return later). Since Paige was with me, I had her in the shopping cart... which translates to me needing to use the "Family/Handicap-Designated" fitting room so she could come inside with me. No big deal, right? WRONG! Here is what happened next...

So the particular Ross store I went to only has one of these "Family-sized" dressing rooms - clearly marked with a large sign on the door. It was occupied, so I waited. After about 5 minutes, a woman emerged to look at herself in the three-way mirror. Because of the angle I was sitting at, I could clearly see into the dressing room when she opened the door... and lo and behold, there was no "Family" in there with her! No stroller. So shopping cart w/ child. Not even a standing child. She was in there ALONE! As she went back into the dressing room, I figured she would hurry up since she saw very prego me + baby obviously waiting for that particular dressing room. Unfortunately, I was wrong. For the next FIFTEEN minutes, she slowly tried on one shirt at a time, came out to look at herself in the three-way, and went back into the dressing room. In an effort to calm myself down (and avoid tacking this extremely rude woman) I began explaining the Etiquette of Dressing Rooms to Paige in a very loud voice. By this point, TWO other women with babies/strollers in tow needing to use the "Family" dressing room had gotten in line. As the Queen of Rudness emerged to look at herself in the 50th shirt, all three of us mamas gave her the stink eye. She really couldn't care less.

So I went back to the fitting room attendant and told her about what was going on. The attendant apologized, knocked on the dressing room door and asked the woman if she was alone. She confirmed she was, and the attendant asked very nicely if she would mind moving to one of the 25 other single-person dressing rooms since there were multiple women with strollers waiting to use that particular room. And then it happened - the response none of us expected - the Queen of Rudeness says, "Absolutely not. They can wait like everybody else."

I'll give you a moment to pick your jaw up off the ground.

As I stood there shocked, I decided upon two feasible options: One - Leave the store ASAP before I lost my mind. Two - Rush the dressing room door and physically drag her out. Because I don't want to give birth to my son in jail, I chose option one and left. I don't blame Ross at all - but I couldn't stand the thought of giving that horrible, vile woman another second of my time or energy.

Now, there was a time in my life - Before Kids - where I would've waltzed right into the Family dressing room to try on my clothes. However - if I saw a woman with a child waiting, or even worse, was asked to go to a different room - I would have been out of that room in less than a second, apologizing profusely. There is a reason those special fitting rooms exist. Just like Handicap Parking. And New/Expectant Mom Parking. I think having a baby about to fall out of your va-jay-jay should give you at least a little special treatment. Or, having babies/young children in tow should elicit a twinge of compassion. But in the majority of instances, it really doesn't. And I've found other women (mostly the middle-aged variety) are the WORST when it comes to empathizing with young moms. They've been there themselves - shouldn't they remember what it was like?

So, after all that, I ended up getting a really cute sundress at Old Navy for only $15 and some adorable sandals for Miss Paige for only $2.50 each. At least the day ended on a high note! : )

Maybe Baby?

Having contractions 3 minutes apart... Headed to the hospital now! Could little man be making an early arrival? Fingers crossed!!

Xoxo

Sneaky Peeps

As a mama, I make up a lot of phrases and words.. For example, nap time is called "Seepy Seepy Nap Nap". As soon as I say it, Paige grabs her binky, makes a beeline to the stairs and then to her crib for a nap. This phrase shouldn't be confused with "Seepy Seepy Night Night" which means it's time to start our nighttime routine of bath, storytime and bed. Another phrase is "Poop da Doop" which translates to - Did you poop in your diaper? "Crocodile Rocks" are her Croc shoes that she wears every day. And an all time favorite - "Sneaky Peeps." Sneaky Peeps are the peeps (aka: urine) that sneaks out at unexpected times, like during a diaper change or in the bathtub.

So over the past few days, I've been having some Sneaky Peeps of my own : )  What's worse than having a cold and sneezing every five seconds? How about having a cold when you are 37 weeks prego with a baby sitting on your bladder? OMG - I could deal with the occasional  "incident" when I would laugh too hard or sneeze unexpectedly. But after sneezing 5 times in a row yesterday, my pelvic muscles completely gave up and WOOSH! - sneaky peeps. All over the floor. (I wish I was making this up, but anyone who is or has been prego knows I'm not...) Luckily I was at home and in my bathroom (although not on the toilet) when the sneaky peeps reared their ugly head. And luckily I still have ugly linoleum floors in my master bathroom that are easy to clean and disinfect.

This latest sneaky peeps incident was horrifying. But at least I was alone. The last time something similar happened (but not nearly as voluminous as this incident) was during my last pregnancy. I was driving somewhere with Daniel and we started laughing. Laughing hysterically. And then it happened... I peed. Just a little. But it was enough to soak through my jeans and onto the seat. I immediately stopped laughing and had what I imagine was a shocked/horrified/embarrassed look on my face. Daniel asked what was wrong, and all I could mutter out was, "Ummmmm... I kind of peed." To which Daniel responded, "You peed? Like, in your pants?" And then he looked over at the seat. Without another word, he immediately busted a U-turn towards home. I ran upstairs to shower and change and he cleaned the car. And never was it spoken of again - until now. I can joke about it, but he still isn't allowed to : ) But we did secretly laugh when we sold that car last summer. Oh, the memories!

In other Sneaky Peeps news, I witnessed something truly unnerving this morning. It was 7:30 a.m. and Paige had just woken up. Being the "always thinking about my child's education and enlightenment" mama that I am, I noticed the garbage truck pulling down our street and decided to hold her up to the window so she could watch. We saw them take our neighbor's garbage and put it in the truck. Paige clapped as the garbage disappeared into the truck. And then one garbage man came moseying over to our house while his buddy got the other neighbor's trash. We watched him take off his gloves. Mess around with his pants. And then... OH. MY. GOSH! The garbage man started peeing on our curb!!!! I stood there horrified, still holding Paige up to the window, not sure if I should bang on the window to let him know he was caught or stay silent. I stayed silent - shocked silence. And a few seconds later he zipped up, put his gloves back on, and emptied our garbage into the truck. Paige began to clap. Then he put our garbage can into the middle of our driveway (rather than off to the side where it had been). And I realized he did that so that he wasn't putting our garbage can into his pee puddle (how thoughtful...). And then I thought about how every once in a while I find our garbage can in our driveway rather than at the curb and... EWWWWWWWW! He does this a lot! Our garbage man is a Sneaky Peeper! And I thought our grass wouldn't grow there because of the dogs... PUKE!!!!!!