Bike Shopping Ends Badly for All Involved; Expectant Couple PossiblySecond-Guessing Life Choices

Zuzu's birthday is coming up next month, and we've decided to get her a bike. We've had some debate about whether to get a balance bike or a small bike with training wheels. After weighing our options, I think we're going to go with the training wheels option, but we took Zuzu to a toy store to try out a couple of bikes and see what she liked. (Spoiler alert: We decided to get her a bike with training wheels, but we already bought it off Craigslist for $20. I'm cleaning it up and adding handlebar streamers and it will look brand new!)

Zuzu was more interested in the bike accessories (helmets, knee pads, etc.) than in the actual bike. The Frozen bike received admiration for a few minutes, but the instruction manual was attached in such a way that it prevented her from  pedaling and she quickly lost interest. 

Instead, she modeled every helmet within reach for us. David noted she was more interested in the outfit and accessories than in the actual sport--just like me and tennis!

After she'd gone through every helmet they had, she obliged me by trying out a scooter. Really she was overstimulated by the entire store, so it was hard to get her attention focused at all. I was putting the scooter away and David was looking at the bikes and suddenly we turned around and she was gone.

She'd been out of our sight for a split second, so we knew she couldn't have gone far, but a quick jog down neighboring aisles didn't locate her, so my heart was POUNDING by the time we found her a minute later in the most obvious place: sitting in a Frozen Jeep. 

David was joking that she needed to ask Grammy to get her that Jeep for her birthday when she said, "Uh-oh. Poop!"

So we took off running for the bathroom. And we ran completely the wrong way at first, so we had to circle back. I was holding her hand and we were both sprinting through the store. She looked up at me and said, "Mommy, this is FUN!"

What was not fun was when we got to the bathroom and the "uh-oh" was already in her pants.

I then found myself in the enviable position of first wiping her poop-smeared butt with single-ply toilet paper and then trying to rinse a turd out of toddler underwear in a public toilet. I had to call David on my cell phone to tell him to go out to the car and get the diaper bag. We needed wipes and a change of clothes. I knew there were wipes in the bag, and an emergency pull-up, but we didn't have an extra pair of shorts or pants.

Zuzu told me she wanted to go back to the Frozen car and I said, "No, when you poop your pants we have to go home. That's why you need to poop in the potty."

Clearly, I am an unfeeling monster for not allowing my daughter to poop her pants and then frolic through the toy store wearing only a pull-up, because that statement unleashed THE FURY of Zuzu.

She started screaming and then she bolted.

So there I was, bent over the (public) toilet, flushing it in an effort to get most of the poop rinsed off her underwear. She was completely naked from the waist down, having removed her own shoes in a public restroom (gag gag gag, but also the least of my problems), and she still had poop still smeared on her butt and one thigh.

And she took off running--shockingly fast.

She got the bathroom stall unlocked, managed to open the (heavy) main door to the restroom (running on pure adrenaline, obviously), and RAN into the store. When I realized she was strong enough to open the main door to the bathroom, I dropped the wet and poopy underwear on the floor in the stall, left her shoes and skirt next to it, and took off after her, chasing her down the main aisle near the entrance of the store. I grabbed her and picked her up (carefully trying to avoid touching the poop-smeared areas). I carried her (SCREAMING and kicking) back toward the bathroom.

I was so intent on catching up with her before she made it back to smear feces all over the seat of the Jeep that I hadn't noticed we had an audience. As I staggered back to the bathroom with my half-naked and thrashing toddler, I passed a couple who had just entered the store. The guy laughed and said, "Looks like she got away from you!" Zuzu shrieked and flailed in my arms. His very pregnant wife rubbed her belly and looked somewhat alarmed, while also undoubtedly judging me, as I would have done before I actually had kids.

I managed to smile at them like "haha isn't this so funny? Toddlers! Wild and crazy! Hahaha" but really I was fiercely whispering to Zuzu through clenched teeth, "You do NOT run away from Mommy!"

We got back to the bathroom and she tried to repeat the escape (my fierce whisper does not penetrate the psyche of a crazed toddler) but David (and Coco in the stroller) had gotten back from the car at this point so he caught her outside the door and, between the two of us, we managed to get her cleaned up and wrangled into a pull-up, while completely blocking access to both bathrooms and the drinking fountain (thank goodness the store wasn't crowded.) Then we gathered up wet and poopy undies, an outraged toddler, a confused-looking baby in the stroller, and what was left of my dignity (very little), and walked quickly out the entrance-only door to escape to our car.

Where we listened to Zuzu scream and cry in protest. 

How could we be so cruel, really? 

This incident also reminds me of the story of my friend Monica when she was little and went to Wal-Mart with her uncle. She sat in a Cozy Coupe and didn't want to get out of it so she peer her pants in it. Her uncle was embarrassed, so he bought the Cozy Coupe rather than leave it full of urine for the next unsuspected kid. Perhaps this is an instinctive toddler thing? If they can just mark child-size vehicles with their poop or pee, they get to take them home! 

It's really a good thing Zuzu's efforts were unsuccessful. Our garage does not have room for a Honda and a Jeep.