Firsts

When I became a parent, I experienced a lot of firsts.  Many of these firsts are joyous, touching, lovely, and charming.  First smiles, first rolling, first crawling, first walking, first words.  I documented so many details for my first child, The Monkey.  And as you might expect, my documentation has diminished with the next two kids (Tiger and Goat). Not only has the documentation shrunk, but the content has changed as well.  The typical milestones get supplemented with other firsts, not always so beautiful as the traditional ones.  I now take pictures of kids at their best, and I take pictures of the kids not at their best. Just keeping it real, you know?  After all, before becoming a parent, I knew about the traditional firsts like smiling and walking and talking.  Since becoming a parent, I've encountered many other firsts.

The first time I bought something to end a tantrum.
The first time my child's inappropriate language became a running joke among parents.
The first time my children conspired together to do something against the rules.

The list could go on, of course, and I hope you have your own list of firsts. Thanks to The Monkey and The Tiger, very little shocks me.  Over the past year, I've felt pretty sure that The Goat won't do much I haven't seen or heard about from the other two or their various friends and classmates.  As my mother often says, pride goes before the fall.

Today when the older circus animals were being trained, I was at home with The Goat.  The Goat was not happy and seemed out of sorts.  He was cranky enough that I took his temperature, which came iback normal.  Since I didn't want to listen to his fussing inside all day, I thought a change of venue might do the trick.  At the very least, I would get something done if we left the house, and MAYBE he would fall asleep in the car.  We went to BJ's warehouse club (similar to Sam's or Costco) because The Co-Ringleader was out of coffee, and we needed a few other things we typically get there.

The Goat did NOT fall asleep in the car, and he was NOT happy to be out.  This was unusual for him since he is a wonderfully mellow baby who often falls asleep in the car and finds the world an interesting place.  I consider myself very blessed to have such a child.  I know what it is like to have a child who hates the car and is not at all mellow.  Anyway, I hurried my way through the list, and The Goat endured the shopping reasonably well.  Then this happened.

Now, I've dealt with a lot of vomit in my almost 8 years of parenting. I'm not grossed out by it.  It is just something that unfortunately happens but is much better out than in.  That said, none of my kids has puked on me in public before.  Yes, they have spit up as infants.  Yes, they have vomited outside of home (at grandparents' house, for example). And I have ended up with puke on me before.  Yet today was a first.  There I was at the produce aisle of BJ's with my sweatshirt covered in vomit and standing precariously close to stepping in the puddle of vomit that didn't make it to my shirt or coat.

And not a single baby wipe in my possession.

But the show must go on!  It was an amateur's mistake not to have the fully loaded diaper bag even in the van.  Yet we made it home with the groceries and my sanity.  Thankfully, an employee happened to be in the produce aisle and quickly brought me paper towels to sop up the mess on me and The Goat. Thankfully, our BJ's has self-checkout lanes so I didn't have to wait except for the [insert stream of expletives] technical glitches despite following the instructions.  Thankfully, I didn't see anyone I knew, and especially not anyone I would rather not see when I'm having a bad time.

Once The Goat and I were back home, this happened.