May 29, 2013

Nunquam Non Paratus

memoirs of a white trash mom
"Nunquam non paratus." This is the Johnstone clan's, from which my husband and children are descended, family motto. It means, "never unprepared." A motto that totally makes sense when it comes to my husband, his siblings, and his father. This trait is obviously a strong one that has been passed down for centuries. They are like a bunch of MacGyvers. Seriously. They never stress out, they just make things happen. If you don't have something you need, they will fashion something out of random crap laying around, and the things they make work just as well (if not better) than the thing you needed.

Unfortunately, it is very apparent that I married into this family. One of these things is not like the others! My family's motto probably means "totally unprepared".

The hot weather hit Pittsburgh out of nowhere this year. It was 40 degrees, then BAM, it was 90. Poor Jovie, being the only girl, had no shorts, and Stone didn't have any clothes either. Being our 5th boy, the clothes that have been passed down for 13 years, went through not only my older boys, but my little brothers, and nephew as well. These clothes had become more like shreds of cloth than actual clothes. I gave up on these and threw them away last summer. So, for the first couple of hot, muggy days, my two little ones were running around outside in sweat pants. "Unprepared Mother".

Lesson 175: little kids running around outside in sweat pants in 90 degree heat, with 100% humidity, while you sport shorts and a tank top = white trash

Finally, Adam had a day off and I could go get them some new threads. Adam was working in the yard, and I couldn't leave Hawk. So, I grabbed him up and went to Target.

Let me ask a question. How many babies have I had? I have had 9 babies! Can I ask another question? What kind of mother of 9 leaves the house without a diaper bag? "Unprepared Mother", that's who.

We got to Target, and of course, Hawk starts crying as soon as we get in the store. Frustrated, I picked him up and tried to find clothes to fit Stone. I picked up a shirt. I looked at it for one second and Hawk decided to poop. And not just a little poop, he pooped right out of his clothes. There was poop running down his leg, and all over my arm. This is when I remembered the diaper bag. "Unprepared Mother!"

Last question. What does an Unprepared Mother of 9 do when she and her baby are covered in poop in public?

Lesson 176: using a random hand wipe you find in your purse, that you stole from Buffalo Wild Wings months ago, to wipe the poop off your arm and babies leg, in the kids' clothes department, then putting the poopy wipe back in your purse, and continue shopping until you're done = white trash

Ok, one more question. Did I learn my lesson? Nope. I took Hawk to the doctor yesterday completely diaper bagless. Luckily, no poop.

I pray my kids inherit that Johnston gene!

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