So . . . often I read blogs where I think--man this mother has it together. She bakes, and reads to her kids, keeps her house clean and doesn't complain about her husband or children. I bet she doesn't swear either. Then I think, either she's lying or just trying to be really really positive.
Then today happened and I thought---what would that mother have done when:
Baby squoosh was wearing a ballet outfit (comando) and said "I poops". I knew she didn't because she for some reason won't poop directly on to cloth. So I took it off and sat her on the toilet. She said "I'm done". Which means--I pretended and that was fun so I'm getting down now. Being that she did nothing into the toilet I put a diaper on because poop was a coming soon. Then I walked away, then I came back and there was Baby squoosh-----
naked, standing on a stool in the bathroom (luckily) with mushy soft pooh running down the back of her leg onto the stool where giant pile was, then running down the stool leg onto the WHITE rug where another giant pile was. I swear it was 4 days worth although she pooped yesterday.
so I go yell some shocking sort of "Oooh nooooo" and grab her and stand her in the tub, as I was in the process of that I get pooh on my exercise shoes. Then I go blank--where do I start? Right then The juice runs in right through the middle. "AAAAHHH GET OUT!!" "DONT' STEP IN IT!" Then I grab the ENTIRE box of wipes and start cleaning up Squoosh's mooshy back side/leg/foot. Then I pile those nasty beasts on the floor and start putting water in the tub, but then I have to rinse down the residual first and Keep Squoosh from stepping in it. Meanwhile my pregnant nose is going nuts trying not to gag. Then The juice comes running in again narrowly missing the beasts on the floor and I snag her arm (not very softly), turn her around and yell "There is $*#@ everywhere! Get out!!!" Then I turn around and some other profanity starts on my lips, but I bite it back. "GGRRRRR!!!!" Then I get the bathtub going. Then I wipe the crap off of my shoes as well as I can. Then I run out and get a grocery bag to collect all of the crap filled wipey beasts. Then I try to grab/smoosh the crap off of the stool into the bag with the wipe. It's an old wooden stool with crevices---yuck. I proceed to wipe it off the leg. Then there is the giant mooshy pile on the white rug. Wipes, wipes and more wipes. It take a deep breath and hold it while I pile all the nasty wipey beasts in the trash bag so I don't get a whif and dry heave.
I leave my almost two year old ALONE in the bathtub UNATTENDED while I run the nasty crap filled bag the the garbage. I come back to the bath, she's enjoying her lovely solo bath lying back with only her face above water. Good, she's good, now it's the rugs. I leave her AGAIN, and with two fingers grab both bath mats and take then outside. Come back and grab the stool. She's playing and enjoying herself so I go outside, turn on the hose and spray the crap off of the rugs and the stools. Luckily it comes off without me having to touch it. I love the power of a sprayer.
I come back in and wipe the bathroom down with a clorox wipe--including my shoe. But the bathroom still smells like a poop explosion. I get Baby Squoosh out and put a diaper on her and TAPE IT ON. Although I know there's nothing left inside--it would be impossible.
So later, and I calm down and everything is sanitary again I think---what do mom's who don't use profanity do in that situation? I would have loved to watch my saintly Relief Society President--who really seems genuinely just good and kind--take care of that situation? Because as hard as I suppressed it, I couldn't help but swear. And I've been doing really good at not swearing. But seriously--poop and lots of it. How was I supposed to be chill about that? So I started thinking about what my friends would do--and realized they would swear too. Maybe I need saintlier friends. And I thought, what would those blogging moms do about this? I guarantee if they wrote about it it would be in some sort of cheery tone, or not written of at all.
So I'm here to let you all breathe a nice sigh of imperfect relief.
I am NOT a Saint.
P.B. (Post Blog) Not more than 1 minute after I posted this--Baby Squoosh walked in with a crap filled diaper (I guess it wasn't impossible) But that puppy was still securely taped on.
Score:
Baby Squoosh 1
Mom 1
9 comments:
THANK YOU! seriously cackling out loud in teh kitchen even though we are now late for singing. i couldn't tear myself away. and you know the saintly R.S. pres cusses too. everyone does inside the head or out. it happens. i prefer out. but that is no shocker.
good call on the tape.
and glad you are posting
I would have reacted the same way, but the cussing would have been in my head because I can't bring myself to cuss in front of my kids for fear that they will repeat it...but there would have been TONS of cussing inside my head. TONS.
You are awesome for taping the diaper. I have done that myself.
;)
You're going to hell, along with the rest of us.
If it makes you feel any better, S@%*,D@%* and H@*% are not cuss words in my book! I say them way too often (ask my kids) I need to stop!
Good poop story at least she didn't walk across the carpet with poopy feet..(have had that happen before)
PS.are you going to say hi or what???
Swear? NEVER! Hahahahaha! I am so NOT good with that kind of thing and am no way a saint either...maybe that is why we have the friends we do....NOT SAINTLY and totally okay with it! So, as I was sitting in my dr. office the other day I was reading Wonder Time magazine and they had an article on confessions of a mommy blogger....and it was so true! It said how if you were to scrapbook life you would only put in the good pictures and the fun stuff....but blogging brought about the "true" stuff and that is why women connect so much better through blogging....because it's so true and honest....it was a great atricle! Anyhow, good thinking on the tape and I am so not looking forward to the potty training life again....and the gagging....I would have hurled right there but I can imagine you with your t-shirt over your nose trying so hard not too!
Oh Jill. I would totally love to joke that I would have been totally calm and cheery, but lets be serious, I would have let a few choice words go, and worse, I would have been crying :)
On the other hand, I must admit, I tend to blog the cheery. It helps me look for the good on days that I think are total crap. I am totally coming to realize there is opposition is all things.
For example...
Horrible encounter with nasty poop filled bathroom...
equals...
Hilarious blog story.
xoxoxo
I am not a mom and I've never had to clean up poop other than the odd diaper here and there, but I still swear over a lot more minor events(I'm not an RS pres but I teach RS lessons!). I've started swearing in French lately--somehow it doesn't seem as bad?!?!
The cuss words streamed out this morning as I woke up every two hours last night to a crying baby (who has done this for a week now after sleeping six to seven hours) and I am sick from sleep deprivation...oh yeah and my husband is at a Cubs/Dbacks game without me today...that added some more cuss words on to the day
I don't ordinarily laugh at blog posts...well, not out loud...but you're "There is $*#@ everywhere! Get out!!!" got me. :)
One day I came home to find my husband furiously scrubbing up the crappy treaure left by our youngest daughter all over the house. Think Billy and his trail of black dotted lines from Family Circus and replace those black dotted lines with some serious sheet. Sheet. The girl even ate it. That's how my Papi discovered it the horror of it all it's because he thought she got into chocolate!
He took pictures so we can show her future boyfriends that she used to be a poopeater in hopes that frightens away any thought of making out.
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