Rookie mom to the rescue

When Benny blogs he calls Olivia the newest rookie of the V-Team. Somehow I think Olivia isn't the only rookie. On most days it is me, Rookie Mom.

Case in point: Last Thursday night, Benny scheduled mandatory Navy fun for Olivia and I. It was the first dinner out for Olivia with her dad's fellow engineering officers and their spouses. I thought about declining the invitation and sending Benny solo. But I really enjoy the food at this particular restaurant (it's traditional Okinawa food from locally grown veggies) so I nodded yes, when he asked if I was still in at 6 p.m.

At the time I was feeding Olivia and hoping she would fall asleep. After all, she hadn't slept for more than 15 minutes at daycare that day (more on our little Catnap Cathy later). Apparently the action of breastfeeding automatically turned off my accurate hearing, so when Benny asked "Is the diaper bag ready to go?" I answered yes. In fact this diaper bag was packed with only one diaper and nothing else.

I nodded yes because I heard Benny ask "Do you need me to get the diaper bag ready?"

Fast forward to the drive to the restaurant, Olivia decides she is STILL hungry (babies and their constant growth spurts), so at a stoplight I jump in the backseat and feed her from a bottle for the remainder of the drive.

At the restaurant I want to burp her, but can't find a burp cloth, receiving blanket or anything else that will remedy this situation. Yes, we carried in an empty diaper bag into a restaurant without noticing how light it was. So I improvised and used a clean T-shirt (originally packed in my gym bag with every intention of returning to my workout routine in the not-so-distant future) as a burp rag. I wiped my child's mouth with a brightly colored orange and blue tank top from Target. Nice.

Later I changed her diaper in the backseat of the car after I found wipes in the front seat. Luckily, I bought some extras at the store the day before and forgot to carry the wipes into the house when I got home from work. But I didn't have a wet bag for her very dirty cloth diaper. So I tossed it in a blue canvas bag normally used for grocery shopping.

When we got home, Benny put Olivia to bed while I threw her cloth diapers from the day into the washing machine. Included in that load was the blue canvas bag. Does anyone see where this story is going?

The next morning, Benny casually asked what I washed with Olivia's diapers.

"Nothing. Just her diapers."

"Oh, because they are all blue."

My super cool blue grocery bag from Tokyo stained Olivia's diapers. One-third of her diapers now look as though a Smurf rubbed up against them. One-third of her diapers are evidence of my poor planning as a mother and even worse -- my blind eye when it comes to separating laundry.

In the end I learned an important lesson: Always check the diaper bag before exiting your home.

Or be prepared to improvise.