There are many reasons I’ll aim to avoid taking the children to shop with me – I mean, besides the near-meltdowns and all the bribery necessary to sometimes make a single purchase – but I will do ANYTHING to avoid a trip to the public washrooms with the Littles.
Here’s a fact: if said Little is saying he or she has to go to the washroom, usually this means he or she is already completely desperate to go, and you must abandon all shopping immediately, and head for the nearest facilities, before you have a disaster on your hands. Or on your shoes.
But it’s already past lunch, and the Little is tired… if I just take her now, I can get these groceries shopped, and the chances of her wetting herself in the stroller on the way home is slim to none… This is the goal, so just suck it up.
Tip: if you are in the process of potty-training a Little, it is not acceptable to tell the child to just go ahead and wet his or her training pants, because it’s not really fair, and anyway, they just won’t do it. (Don’t ask me how I know.)
Besides the fact that trying to wheel a stroller around inside narrow corridors AND trying to protect your purchases and your purse while you’re using the facilities is an enormous pain in the butt, being in such a nasty environ with a tender, new person often makes my eyes just roll into the back of my head.
It often starts with the smell. Usually right after you push open a stall door, only to get an eyeful of the evidence that the crapper ain’t working. *heaves* Ew.
Venture into the least offensive (if not the largest) cubicle available, and proceed to get your Little to sit down and NOT TOUCH ANYTHING AT ALL.
I’m not a fan of trying to place all kinds of toilet paper all over the seats, to act as a barrier between bum and bacteria, because a) most of the toilet paper just ends up slipping into the toilet or onto the floor before you’ve had a chance to sit, and 2) this is precisely what bathing is for. (Unless you have open wounds on your butt, and in which case, please go back to the hospital and stop spreading your flesh-eating disease. Thanks.)
I try not to kneel in anything wet on the floor, though there are some cracked and weeping tiles, seeping moisture that just doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence, I must tell you, about the bleach-factor in this place, but I’m not going to be a freak about germs – I just want my kid to pee, so we can get out of this bacteria ballroom, and get on with our lives.
But in my haste, I’ve set my Michael Kors bag on the floor… the same floor with the urine all over it, so I try to keep my kid balanced with one knee while I try to scoop up my purse (which is also in the perfect position for theft, by the way) but I can’t quite reach it… so I let my tired thumb-sucking kid balance her own self, with her hands ON THE SEAT of the public toilet (the same one with the pee-pee splashes and the curly pubic hair damply stuck to the semi-white porcelain) and in one quick movement, she puts a hand to her MOUTH while she YAWNS, and then proceeds to RUB HER EYE.
Why don’t I just plunge her into a steaming hot vat of gonorreah. Holy crap. *shudders and starts praying*
I try not to panic, and just scoop her up. I keep her hands at arms length away from her face and mine, and head to the sinks. Of course the counter tops are soaking wet, and she’ll be drenched before I’m done washing her plague-covered little hands. She’s terrified of the super-noisy hand-dryers, so she wipes her kinda clean hands on my jeans.
Now I’m chilly. Le sigh.
I abhor using the public facilities. I’m fine on my own, but with the Littles? I’d just rather stay home.
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Becca, isn’t it the worst? You don’t need to be a germaphobe to just want to eliminate this kind of experience if you can help it. This alone makes a case for home-schooling. Uch. And EW!!
Nancy… oh no!! I would have been suicidal, I swear. Did I ever mention that I once caught Oliver combing his hair WITH THE TOILET BRUSH? Yeah. I *thought* about bleaching him, but then decided that was wrong(ish) and instead tried to wash away the memory with some really delicious Cabernet. Wine is wonderful.
Oh. my. gosh.
Not only did you totally nail the bathroom experience with a child– and, wow, BEEN there, in all its stomach-turning glory– but it’s kind of funny, because I remember being a single woman at one point in the distant past and seeing moms go into the bathroom stalls with toddlers, and wondering what EXACTLY they did in there… If I only knew.
I totally get what you’re talking about. I nearly gagged when I HAD to put my Coach purse on the floor in a toilet stall last week. Imagine what I used to do when my kids were little. I would actually hold my daughter over the toilet! I still don’t understand why I didn’t develop Popeye muscles.
Although I’m totally disgusted by taking my kids into public washrooms, I would never, ever, in a million years, do what I saw one parent do at Walmart the other day. She left her screaming toddler sitting alone in the top of a grocery cart (Okay…that in itself is CRAZY…considering all the head traumas that occur when little children fall out of those carts) outside the entrance to the washrooms, while she went in by herself.
I was STUNNED!!!
Tracey- brilliant stuff and I can so relate.I am absolutely crazy when it comes to public washrooms. Once when we drove to Florida my children emerged from the bathroom without flip-flops and that was too much for me. Dirty peepee public feet. Then my 3 year old had major tantrum in a gas station bathroom and rolled all over the floor under the toilet. I was so distraught I thought I should just trade her in for a clean child. Honestly I have figured out how to do pretty much everything I need to in a public bathroom with elbows because I am so germ afraid.
I know, Jen. I really don’t have a fear of germs (truly, I don’t) but when you can SEE fecal matter on the bowl? And then your kid puts hands-to-face?! Oh my god, just kill me. It’s so nast, I can’t even think about it. Ew!!
Oh Alice, I know!! The ladies’ at Home Depots everywhere are practically spa-like. LOVE!
I must admit, I don’t have a germ fear and have been able to use some pretty questionable public restrooms. I’m also not a squatter, because holy wow I do not have the coordination that requires. HOWEVER, omg taking a little to the public restroom is like a horror show, and mine isn’t even USING it. Trying to “go” while holding a squirmy toddler on your lap is just NOT an easy task.
I would like to note however that I have managed this feat in an airplane bathroom. I have no idea why I’m proud of that fact but by golly I AM.
I used to be able to just hold mine sort of *over* the actual bowl, but they are now too heavy.
Instead, I totally have a map of the decent public washrooms in my head for most places we go because UGH.
A tip: Home Depot? Women’s is excellent because really, how much use does it see? And so on.
Tracey, I can totally relate to your experience!
Another difficult situation is when you have to go to the bathroom and, while sitting on the toilet, she opens the door. Yikes! By they way, I always wipe down the entire toilet seat with a baby wipe before I let my daughter sit on the seat. Thank goodness for wipes!
Oh, ack. You’re lucky for that height advantage – if I were more nimble, I might just perch on the seat… but that’s weird.
My kids are older and I have no idea what my son does but I can NOT stand the fact that my daughter sits on the seat. I, myself, am a squatter (height advantage #1). Then when she uses her HAND to flush I literally *gag*. That is something for your foot to do.
To try and offset this a bit I have anti-bacteria gel spray in my purse and she gets a full body rub-down post potty visit!
That’s what I figure too – totally. It’s just so… nast.
… and if that bubble wasn’t drenched in pee-pee, I’d be pretty happy…
Oh Tracey! What a horrible experience. My stomach is rolling. I hate taking my kids to public bathrooms. Unfortunately they always feel the need to go as soon as well leave the house. Oh, well. I try to convince myself that a exposing my kids to germs only help them develop stronger immune systems.
Don’t we wish we had a ‘bubble’ to keep the little one safe.