It Happens. Anywhere.

It's only 1:15 p.m. and a full day has already been put in as far as I'm concerned.

Early this morning, I saw this post on Facebook from a friend of mine in TN

I commented on it by saying.
"This is good! And fairly easy to put into practice in this moment. But! I'm going to get out of bed 
and go downstairs in a second, then only by God's grace will I continue to be the person I'm supposed to be."

There are 12 of us here in the house who needed to be gotten to church at various times this morning.
The bulk of the process of getting Charlie and the triplets fed, changed, dressed, and loaded into the van in time was left to Mark, Mary Elisabeth and myself. And we did it! We arrived at Crossroads
Community Church a full 10 minutes before the music began and were able to get settled and greet a few people. Usually we're racing like crazy and pulling in after the songs have begun. It's not that we like to be late, it's more that we have unpredictable people who like to pull stunts before we leave home that we have no choice but to deal with and give up on the notion of being timely.

The worship service was AMAZING!!

Charlie was enjoying himself and all was right with the world, for about 2 more minutes. I felt something drip onto my foot and looked down and noticed what appeared to be oil puddles all over the floor. Momentary confusion and checking of all of his machines ensued but that was a no-go. It was then that the realization Charlie had been pooping his pants and it had dripped all down the front of my dress, my flip-flops, and the floor, hit me like a ton of bricks. Oh brother!

Chairs were quickly shuffled out of the way, Mary Elisabeth pushed the wheelchair, while I walked alongside, Charlie in my arms, a burp cloth pressed against his backside so we didn't leave too much of a trail on the way to the women's bathroom. WHAT A MESS!
In the hurry to get Charlie out of the service, the diaper bag was left behind. Mark was sent back into the service to get it, and came back with Charlie's suction machine bag instead. Bisbess and I were attempting to get Charlie's poopy clothing off and put him in the sink. He's floppy most of the time unless agitated and then he can stiffen his arms and legs like a board. The sink was covered in poo and slippery as well as Charlie's body. He was not having it with our efforts to disrobe and wash him up. 
Mark finally came back with the right bag and was expressing huge reluctance about coming into the women's restroom. I didn't holler at him, but in my mind, it was completely legit for him to be in there even if he's not a cross-dresser. My husband does not even wear pink so he was fighting with himself over being deep into the bathroom and not just at the door handing stuff over.
Finally we had the boy naked except for a diaper and put him back in his seat. Then I realized there was no way I could go back into the service with globs of poopy pudding down the entire front of my dress. I stripped to my bra and slip and demanded Mary Elisabeth go find me a Crossroad's shirt and maybe a pair of shorts from the Lost and Found?!
There were no shorts to be found.
I thought to myself, "I don't pack clothing for me in the diaper bag. This isn't usually an issue, hello!!"
Several scenarios ran through my head but the course of action I landed on was to hand a cleaned up, but primarily naked Charlie over to Mark and Bis and I walked out of the bathroom wearing a shirt and my slip and left the building to drive home to get new clothing. Thankfully, I had decided to wear a slip this morning even though it hadn't been entirely necessary under the original dress I wore.
People I walked past on my way to our van may have thought it totally inappropriate to leave in the garments I had on, but they didn't realize how much scarier it could have been!!

I have a tendency in these kinds of situations, which leave me feeling really slightly unbalanced, to decide to never put myself in a position where "It Happens" again. However, I'm not sure that's the best solution. I had a similar episode with my 4th child at 2 months of age who completely pooped herself at the Zoo. We had the same scenario of trying to make the best of a bad deal and I didn't go back to the zoo for another 10 years. It wasn't until my 7th and 8th children at 3 and 4 years of age couldn't identify a gorilla or elephant that I understood the far reaching effects of such a drastic choice not to risk an awkward deal at the zoo.

We're going to be back in church next week, God willing. And He gave us the ability to deal with the chaos this morning and not completely lose. our. minds.
I'm not necessarily feeling kind and tenderhearted, but rather a little discombobulated. But the load is rinsed and in the washing machine and we'll live another day to deal with life as it happens. I want to quit being a mother at least 100 times a day. But somehow, someway, I get my *poop* together and do the next thing.

By God's grace, when handed lemons, grab the sugar and make lemonade.