parenting is a humbling experience

I have this thing about babies without shoes or socks. It bugs me. It's a little weird, I know. I'm fine with babies or toddlers barefoot in parks, I'm certainly okay with them barefoot at home or in your yard. When I see babies or toddlers running around Target or the grocery store barefoot, though, or running around in restaurants barefoot, it makes me cringe. Josh finds this endlessly amusing, and is quick to point out any children in the vicinity without socks, just to hear my diatribe on the subject.

This means, of course, that poor Gabriel gets very little sockless time to hang out. In fact,
we were in Florida this week and he became mesmerized by the sight of his toes while we sat outside in the sun. You see, he'd never really seen them before except during changes or baths. He is seriously toe-deprived.

Anyway, we were flying back from our visit with Josh's parents for Passover in Florida. The plane started its initial boarding, and I realized that I'd better change his diaper quickly before we got on the plane without a changing table. I rushed him into the family restroom at the Tampa airport and left Josh with the stroller and the food we'd bought for the flight. I pulled off the bottom of Gabriel's pajamas and unsnapped his diaper and started wiping quickly. I looked to my right to grab the clean diaper and realized that my hands were getting wet. Yup, he started peeing. All over me, all over himself, all over the wall and changing table, including the toy I'd handed him to entertain him during the diaper change. I pulled the dirty diaper out from under him to cover the stream of pee, and heard another horrifying sound.

He pooped. All over me, all over his clothes, and all over the changing table. I took one look at the mess, and pulled out my cell phone to tell Josh to book it over to the bathroom because I needed another pair of hands. In the meantime, the poop was spreading slowly underneath Gabe and across the table. Josh didn't answer, of course, so cursing wildly, I started the slow process of mopping up the mess.

I peeled off Gabe's socks, his onesie, his outfit, I took off the changing pad, recovered the table with paper towels, one-handed I wiped Gabe down and put him back down on the semi-clean table. I scrambled to get the clean diaper on him before he gave me another little present, and then I realized that over the loudspeaker they were announcing the final boarding call for our flight.

There I was, baby only semi-clean, clad only in a diaper, with a hand full of dirty pooped and peed on clothes, with only a diaper bag and a blanket with me, and the emergency change of clothes sitting in the basket underneath the stroller at the gate with Josh.

So I picked up my semi-clean, semi-naked baby, and wrapped the dirty clothes in a paper towel, and ran out of the bathroom and over to the gate, where they were ominously announcing over the loudspeaker that this was REALLY the last boarding call for flight 1861.

And then I boarded the plane. With my naked, dirty baby. All the way down the aisle until our seat. Wrapped in only a blanket, while several people exclaimed out loud when I walked by that my baby was naked. They couldn't smell him, so they didn't know he was also relatively unclean.

All I can say about the whole experience, is that I will never look askance at the barefoot babies again. I have learned my lesson. And a bit of humility in the process, too.