Adventures In Traveling - The Real Story, Pt. 2

So Princess Grace is toying with the idea of ditching the Pull-Ups for the full-time potty thing. Notice I say toying with the idea...which means she loudly proclaims she needs to go potty every 25 seconds or so, then changes her mind after you've broken your neck to get her to the potty ASAP. Of course, after you put her clothes back on her and leave the bathroom she will immediately poop in the Pull-Up, thus sending you back to the bathroom. We're spending a lot of time in the bathroom these days.

You can imagine what this does to a road trip. We stopped for a lot of false alarm potty breaks. For those of you familiar with the drive from Little Rock to St. Louis, you'll appreciate the list of stops: Brinkley, Forrest City, West Memphis and the now dreaded, infamous Osceola. At each stop, the Princesses and I all squeezed into a McDonald's restroom stall (somehow the handicapped stalls were never available) and tried to get Princess G to do her business, which she firmly refused to do...after spending the 15 previous minutes screaming from the backseat, "Wanna go potty, Mama!"

By Osceola, Princess G had the routine down, but unfortunately, by then her Pull-Up actually was wet, so I had to get it changed. Of course, unlike a regular diaper, putting on a new Pull-Up involves taking off shoes and pants, putting the Pull-up on, then putting the pants and shoes back on.

Princess G had other ideas.

Namely, she didn't want to change her Pull-Up. Wait, I don't think you're really getting the full impact of her conviction on this issue. SHE DIDN'T WANT TO CHANGE THE $#$#ING PULL-UP. So when I, in my sweetest we-have-to-make-this-happen mommy voice, tell her that we really do have to change the diaper, the scene begins to resemble something from The Exorcist. Dear, sweet, golden-haired Princess G begins to scream. And kick. And hit. And screech. With the ferocity of a supremely ticked-off badger.

I'm trying to get the Pull-Up on her while keeping her and everything else I can off the floor (it's a McDonald's restroom floor - EEW!), and she - having suddenly sprouted octopus arms and whacked-out radiation accident strength - is not allowing me to get the dang thing past her knees, all while shrieking in this "Someone please call DFS on my mommy!" voice from hell. Princess E (who hates loud noises, especially her sister's shrieks) is huddled in a corner of the stall with her hands stuffed over her ears saying, "Mommy, make her stop!" All the while, I'm hearing people come into the restroom...and go out again very quickly.

After about five minutes of this, I give up and submit to my baser, just-get-it-done mommy instinct: I squat down, throw the clothes on the floor, pin the Mutant Badger Octopus Princess's head and arms under my arm, put her bottom half on my lap, wrestle the Pull-Up, pants and shoes on, stand up, throw her over my shoulder, pick up the diaper bag and guide Princess E out of the restroom.

I walk out to see a group of grandmas sitting at a table looking straight at me - a few are shooting me disapproving looks, one is whispering into her cellphone and sneaking glances at me (as if to memorize my clothes in order to give a good description to the police), and one is laughing hysterically. I wanted to cry, laugh with her, and punch that lady out all at the same time.

By practically sitting on her, I managed to wrestle Princess G into her carseat and drive off in the pouring rain while ignoring the fact that I really needed to tinkle myself. (I held it until Cape Girardeau.) After a mile or so, Princess G stopped screaming long enough to realize "Cinderella" was playing on the DVD. A couple of miles later, she was snoozing.

Don't worry, Princess E finally stopped rocking back and forth and muttering to herself around Blytheville. As for me, I turned my iPod to my audiobook I'd just downloaded - the latest Einstein bio - and vowed that from now on, I will listen to wise friends like Leslie and knock the princesses out with Benadryl the minute we begin our next car journey. And get earplugs. And body armor. And tow a Porta-Potty behind the car.