“Mommy poop!”

I was really surprised with our flight from Seattle to Los Angeles.  Hannah confined on my lap for 2.5 hours, not being allowed to walk up and down the aisle like we do on the long haul flight….  I was having nightmares just thinking about it.  Our LA to Seattle flight was after the long flight from Sydney, so she just slept, buggered from sleeping only 2 hours the whole flight.  This time though, the flight was at 5:30pm.  Not time for sleep yet, just time for play.

Luckily, a lovely lady from my women’s bible study group suggested I bring Play-Doh.  I hadn’t actually considered bringing Play-Doh before that, but I went out and bought some the day before we left on our big trip.  As soon as we reached cruising altitude and the seat belt sign was switched off, I got out that lovely little jar of blue Play-Doh.  Hannah sat on my lap, poking, prodding, and squishing the Play-Doh on the tray table.   She played with it for an entire hour.  I don’t think one single thing has grasped her attention for one whole hour ever, in her entire life.  Apart from sleep of course.  And rough-housing with Daddy.

When we got to L.A.  I had to…um…go….  What can I say, when you are going to be travelling for 24 hours door to door, you are bound to have to poop sometime.  Ugh.  I hate pooping in public.  When I was little, we’d go camping and I couldn’t poop the entire trip.  An entire week.  I’ve gotten much better since then, but still I have issues pooping in public.  Having Hannah makes it easier of course.  If there is a smell, no one knows it was me, people assume it was her.  It’s one of the many benefits of being a parent.  If I accidentally break wind in public, loud or not, I can blame Hannah, and no one will ever know.  And being a pregnant woman, by the third trimester, I’m sure this will not be an unusual event…

I do prefer to get one of the one room only toilets so there aren’t a million people waiting in line, knowing how long you’ve been in there, possibly hearing the plop, knowing what I am doing in there.  No.  Thank.  You.  I found a parents room.  A one room, one door, lock when you go in, parents room.  It was occupied.  Humph.  We waited.  And waited.  No one was coming out.  Maybe they had a public poop phobia too (yay, I’m not the only one!).  I waited some more.  Nothing.  I waited for almost 10 minutes.  Hannah kept saying very loudly “someone in there!  Someone in there!”

I gave up.  We went to the normal, a million stall, way too many people waiting in line, knowing how long you’ve been in there, women’s bathroom.  We took the disabled stall, the only one I could fit in with the pram.  All was well, it was loud in there, toilets flushing every 2 seconds, hand dryers and water taps running all the time.  No one could hear anything.  I still didn’t feel too comfortable, but you know, it wasn’t as bad as those 3 stall toilets where you can hear the person next to you breathing.

“Mommy pee.”  Hannah said.

“Yeah, mommy’s peeing sweetie.”

But then I was still sitting there.  Going in public makes it harder to actually…go.

“Mommy poop!”  Hannah exclaimed loudly.

Oh. My. Gosh.  I nearly died.

“Mommy going poo-poo!”  She wouldn’t stop.  She seemed super-excited that she knew what I was doing and that she could vocalise it for all to hear.

“Shhh…”  I said to Hannah to no avail.

I couldn’t do it.  How could I possibly poop in public when my cheeky little daughter was actually announcing that fact to the world?  Sigh.  I was about to have a toddler sleeping on me for many hours on a long flight, not to mention a little boy baby who enjoys kicking my insides.  Add to this a full intestine, and I was going to have a very uncomfortable flight.  Humph.
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