120 Miles

120 miles...that's how far I drove yesterday to get to Bartlesville and back. That's how far we made it in the car with no accidents. That was one of the most nerve wracking drives I have had in a long time. Not nearly as bad as when Brenden had the most horrendous diaper rash EVER during our trip to Colorado, but it was scary in its own way. The Unknown! I don't do well with The Unknown, especially by myself. How would he do? Would I be able to get to a bathroom in time if he needed it? How would he do at his grandma's house, telling someone that was not Tim or me that he needed to go?

The trip there was...interesting. About halfway there he told me he needed to go, which just so happened so be right past the midway bathroom stop. I had our extra potty in the back of the car in case we needed it and I decided I should stop on the side of the road and let him try. Unfortunately Brenden was much more interested in the passing cars and, even though he said he needed to, would not go. He was also cold, which doesn't really help things. After about 5 minutes I put him back in his carseat and not long after he told me he had to go again. I pulled off where I thought there was a bathroom only to see that the gas station must have closed down years ago. Back to trying the potty in the back of the car, which I'm not sure will ever work.

After giving up on that idea I just decided to drive as quickly (and safely) as I could to the gas station I knew was still there. I was so happy that we had made it there and that Brenden was still dry that it took me a second to realize that they had a sign on the window. "No Public Restrooms" Are. You. KIDDING. ME? I wasn't about to get back in the car without at least begging first. Thankfully, they took mercy on me and my poor toddler's tiny bladder and let me use the bathroom that should still be available to customers. What gas station doesn't allow customers to use their bathroom? Sheesh.

Eventually we made it to the dance studio, dry and clean and happy. Brenden tried to play with a couple of older boys, one of which almost got a momma smack down from me for being a rude little punk, but we won't talk about that. It makes my blood boil to even think about. And the fact that he told me that my child was "weird" and "crazy"? Yeah...he best be nice next time. ANYWAY...

Grandma came and got Brenden and an hour later I got a phone call to assure me that he was doing just fine and that he had no problem telling her when he needed to go. Yay!!! Of course that call came while I was interviewing my replacement at the dance studio, who starts today, but she understood. On that note, I cannot explain how happy I am that we have someone that will be able to take over my job and that I think she'll work out perfectly. Shelly and I could barely contain our giddiness!

The drive home was almost exactly like the drive to Bartlesville, only this time I didn't stop when he said he needed to go. I asked if he could wait and he said yes, so I kept driving. Fifteen long minutes later we pulled into the garage, he was still dry, and his daddy rushed him to the bathroom. Success!

No accidents all day! A replacement for me at the studio that should have no problems picking things up quickly! I didn't lose my mind!

Now if we could only figure out his night time routine life would be perfect.

I'm a big boy now!