So today I ran an errand just myself with the kids, and since they were so good I treated them (okay, I treated myself) to Chic fil a. We ate, then the girls played and then let me tell you what happened.
My family has been hit with some kind of sinus/icky/head-cold, something. My oldest was the last to get it and the other day she had a pretty good nosebleed because she doesn’t know how to leave her nose alone. It was a posterior nose bleed so those look like you’re going to bleed out forever. WELL! It decided to happen again today while we were there and just about to leave. I told her to run to the bathroom and get in a stall and I’ll be in there in just a minute. So I got to the table, where I had just strapped my youngest into the highchair to finish up some nuggets before we left, packed up our belongings really quick, grabbed the girls’ shoes (yeah, she ran into the bathroom shoeless, but she was bleeding everywhere!) and rolled my youngest in her highchair to a booth closest to the bathroom. I opened the bathroom door and slid her shoes into the stall she was in, and then popped right back out to pick up my toddler to go and help out big sissy. I told her to open the stall door and let us in and OH MY GOSH.
On the toilet seat, the floor, the toilet paper dispenser, dripping down her arms, the freaking wall! It just wouldn’t stop! I tried my best to clean it up as we were getting her face situated and just like trick birthday candles the blood just kept reappearing. I bet the people in the dining area were wondering what the hell was going on in that bathroom because all you could hear was flush, clunk, flush, “come back here!”, flush, door slam, flush, crying, flush, clunk, flush, screaming, flush, “get off the floor!”, flush… over and over..
My toddler was initially trying so hard to help her big sister by trying to get more toilet paper for her to dam up sissy’s nostrils. But since I didn’t want her covered in blood like the rest of the bathroom I had to keep telling her “No!“. Cue the crying and the tantrum-ing! I now had one kid covered in blood, and another kid covered in public restroom cooties! So not only was there blood everywhere but there were also little, itty-bitty, confetti-sized toilet paper shreds all over the floor.
At one point another lady came in and had to take a number two and the poor lady not only had to deal with the madness that was happening in the stall next to hers, but also with my toddler trying to join in on her potty adventures from under the stall walls trying to start up some baby babble small talk.
Then my toddler figured out how to open the stall doors because she watched me as I was leaving the stall to gather something with a little more durability, like paper towels instead of melt-in-your-hands public restroom toilet paper, with some soap! She also managed to smash her fingers somehow between the two different stall doors. Cue more screaming! And I had to keep apologizing as I was walking back and forth from the stall to the sink to another lady waiting on one of the two stalls to free up while this is all going on. Some luck she had–either a stall that was just covered in blood or a fresh stinky poo-poo stall.
But bless this woman’s heart, she saved my my sanity. My youngest walked up to her with tears in her eyes and her snot clad face, she looked up at the lady, waved, and said “hiiii” in the saddest voice ever. The lady bent down and just started engaging with her. She kindly told me if I’m okay with it she was willing to stand there and try and keep her company if she’d let her. Luckily my oldest’s face decided to finally clot and stop bleeding just in time. So I cleaned her up as best as I could, and sent her to the sink to wash her hands and face.
And I stood there, paper towels in hand, taking in the lovely mess that almost robbed me of my sanity and took a deep breath, cleaned up the blood from the toilet, walls, floor, etc, and blew all the toilet paper scraps into one measly pile and gave my last bit of effort to pick those up too.
I walked out of that stall (lady doo-doo was still in stall number two) and thanked that very kind woman for helping me out and that I was sorry she had to wait so long. She said “Honey, you’re doing the best you can, and you kept calm, us grandmas were once moms too, you know! You and your beautiful girls take care now.”
We were in that bathroom at least 25 minutes between the start of the nosebleed, to me finishing up my janitorial duties and finally washing my hands. I had so many eyes fixated on me when we walked out– arms full with a toddler on my hip, a bag of food and a drink in one hand, my purse across my body and a diaper bag on my back and escorting my oldest through the restaurant. But yet, thanks to that wonderful woman, I was not embarrassed, because I was doing the best that I can.
And that is all that matters.