School Uniforms, Perfect Poop and a Quick Chat

I knew it was coming, and I’d been dreading it for AGES. Taking Noah to get his school uniform. I knew he’d be well behaved; in fact he was pretty much no trouble at all. But when you have TWO little people, one of whom would risk ripping off limbs (mine, his and/or other) to get out of the pushchair, does not make for a particularly fun trip. I strapped Isaac and Noah firmly into the Phil & Ted’s as I had NO INTENTIONS of getting them out unless strictly necessary. Joyfully (not) I manage to land possibly the dreariest assistant ever. This was gonna be fun.

So after repeatedly telling her what we needed, she started to bring stuff over and it dawned on me (yes it took me THIS long) that I was going to have to get Noah out of the pushchair. Isaac had already ripped off one shoe and thrown it across the room; I was on limited time.

Thank God – Noah was golden, behaving like a saint, trying stuff on, babbling away and repeating what he could hear going on around him. Then Ms Dreary had to go find something, I dunno, a hat that didn’t engulf his entire head (“Yeah…um…yeah I guess that’s a bit big, shall I go find a smaller one?” “No, I’d like to take this one, I’m quite sure his head will have grown to twice the size by next Monday and will therefore fit perfectly.” *FACE-PALM*). Clearly, they were low on stock as she was taking her time. Noah was getting restless. And Isaac was getting shouty (shoes and socks had all been removed). We’d got just about everything, just needed a hat, socks and some clothes labels – and then I spotted it.

Tucked away in the corner was a little play area, perfect for them to go and be quiet.

I threw them in and waited.

And then, I smelt something.

And knew instantly that Isaac had pooped. Did I have any spare nappies with me? Of course not. Did I have any baby wipes? Of course!! In the frigging car parked a short walk away.

I sidled over to Isaac and gingerly pulled back his nappy. Vomit inducing air billowed out, but his nappy was empty.

“Is everything ok?” Her nose wrinkles. “We um, we have a toilet if you need it…”

“No thanks! It’s just air, thank God!”

“Ok, well I can’t find the hat and it says on your list you still maybe need socks, I think…I don’t know which ones you want…”

All I can think is sweet god in heaven why does it still stink so much around here? There’s one other kid in the play area so I assume it’s just him. And return to the task of deliberating over whether Noah needs grey ankle socks or grey regular socks. Turns out he needs both (are you kidding me with this, School? He is TWO. Not even funny.)

And then it dawns on me – Noah’s pooped. Of course he has. I peek in and there it is, perfectly nestled in his pants. Is it wrong that my first thought was “Thank god it’s a completely solid one”, closely followed by “I’m so glad he knows not to sit down and squish it”? I have no choice but to put Isaac back in the pushchair – cue desperate wailing like I’m taking him to prison. Noah once again was brilliant; although I realised I had no spare pants for him either (what the fuck is wrong with me? Rookie mistakes after 2 years? JESUS H. C.) Hoiked down his trousers and wrapped my hand in tissues to create a glove and remove the perfectly formed poop from his pants. I dunno how he does it, but no skids and minimal smearing made it an easy job. If I wasn’t feeling so stressed about the impending bill for his clothes (which he’s only allowed to wear until March OMFG) I would have high-five’d him. I wiped him down best I could and took them both back to the play area (anything to stop the small one screaming like a Banshee).

As the assistant put the stuff through the til and I repeatedly mentally thanked my mother for donating some money to help pay for the uniform, I watched Noah playing with the older kids in the play area. They talked to him really nicely, Noah would smile and he spoke just as politely in return. I smiled. Only, the kid would look at him, then look at me, then sidle away awkwardly. They didn’t understand him and none engaged in further conversation. Was it because they didn’t understand him? Did they just get bored quickly? Did they just not know how to respond?

Those were the questions that went through my mind and I quickly realised that these are the sort of questions that will go whizzing around in my head for a long time to come. I want my kid to fit in and be ok, but I want him to stand out and be awesome. Buying his uniform, making sure that it was pristine and he would fit in great and that it would be the same as everyone else so he wouldn’t be teased. And yet I want him to maintain his own personality. How do we deal with that? How do I help him grow like everyone else, and yet grow to be himself, be his own little person?