Parental black-outs

There are some days that I suddenly "come to" and think, "Did I seriously just do that?" Nine times out of ten, it has something to do with my child. I like to refer to the moments before you ask that loaded question as "parental black-outs". The never-ending need that our mini-me's demand can cause us parents to go into auto-pilot. For example, I lift my suddenly red-faced son up to get a good whiff of his butt to confirm that, yes, he has in fact reached max-load capacity in his pants. I see this as perfectly normal because we're at the park and I need to scout out a good place to change his diaper. The woman jogging by stares at me with complete disgust and shakes her head. (Know how I can tell she's not suffering from zombie-mom brain? Her work-out clothes match. And they're cute.) Lady, you're lucky I only did the sniff-test in your presence and didn't go all out and stick a finger down the back of that loaded gun. But then I suddenly realize that what I'm doing is, in fact, gross. I do need to figure out if Barrett's due for a diaper-change, but my mode of operation is still disgusting and I stopped caring a long time ago. My main concern has become "get 'er done". Parental black-out.

I've been keeping a mental tally of some of these black-out moments. As a parent, you can either relate now or you'll relate later. There is no higher ground here. We are mindless drones here for the loin-spawns' bidding...

• The kid is on his last disposable swim diaper while swimming at your sister's pool. He poops...again. You check the diaper, see a nugget, and decide to grab it, bare-handed, and heave it into the grass to conserve the precious diaper. Was it worth the diaper-save now that you've got poop on your fingers?
• Your little dude is abundant with green snot. You're walking into Target (you're screwed) and realize you don't want to be seen as having the "snotty kid". No tissue handy? No problem! Just take a good swipe with your hand, look around...and wipe it on the side of your pants. There couldn't have been THAT many people who saw.
• You're about to put your naked spider-monkey into the bath when you realize he's trying to poop. (Yes, many of my black-out moments have to do with poop. If it was a currency in our household, we'd be rich.) Do you let him poop on the floor or in the bath? Neither, you scoop him up, run around in a what-to-do circle, and then stick your hand underneath his hiney. He begins pooping INTO YOUR HAND. You scream and throw it into the toilet. You know you could've just held him over the toilet in the first place.
• You decide after a long morning of park-fun that you're starving. Before you know it, you've hit the drive-through at McDonald's, scarfed down a quarter pounder...with cheese...and a Diet Coke...makes sense. You find yourself at home in bed nodding off at nap-time. You literally do "come to" after a dead man's sleep and feel like you've been hit by a truck, thanks to America's favorite faux-meat. This particular moment was that tenth time that actually has nothing to do with my kid. Just felt like sharing a particularly disgusting moment to clear my conscience.

These "parental black-outs" are hardly avoidable, people. Between the incessant needs of your tiny humans, possible lack of sleep if said tiny humans are finicky sleepers or early risers, and the demands of normal every-day life, we just can't be on top of our game all the time. The only solution I've found is to keep record of these black-out moments and be prepared to effectively gross out your friends and family with tales of poop, snot, and other assorted bodily functions.