Yesterday I was reaching for my keys on my way to taking the car (since it was raining) to BART to then go to school in Berkeley where I had to present in class and turn in a big paper that I had started writing only that morning, and I think I must have squished him tummy, a vatful of milk, because the next thing I was drenched in milk. Changed my shirt and his clothes. Putting him in his car seat I accidentally pinched his thigh in the clip of the car seat. Went inside to put an ice pack on his thigh. Strapped him in the car seat with the ice pack, he howled all the way to BART and it was all red lights.
I get on the train, his leg looks fine, mainly red from the ice pack. I was so worried, because this is the first time he has an ouchie, and I was breastfeeding him so he would feel better, that I get on the wrong train and end up in San Francisco. In the tunnel, under the water, he pees his diaper (the train gets very loud under the water) all over his onsie, my shirt, etc. I change him at Embarcadero on the round concrete seats at the station. Get back on train. Normally I wait, stand, get crammed, this time I asked for disabled seat. Poor Luca.
Get back to Berkeley. As train pulls into station, he really lets it rip. There is no way that anyone on that car didn't know that a baby pooped. It was loud, and smelled. I get out, ask some ladies to move over on the concrete bench, they comply. Then when I removed the diaper, more bailed out quick. (Like why look, if you know its a baby diaper and you have a queasy stomach, right?)
I get above ground, and a street musician is playing a saxophone loudly at Berkeley. Poor Luca is really stressed and worried from the sound as I come up the escalator. I tell him its okay, and the musician plays the saxophone all around Luca's head. ***He loves it.*** I get to class an hour late, present, turn in paper, and get home. Pump boobs, play with him on his play mat, and pass out.