So it’s been an intense week. Between the trip to the ER, the nebs and medication for Ricky, the not sleeping and everything else we’ve had going on for…you know…normal life this week, I am so excited for a little glass of vino on Friday night. Actually sangria with blueberries if you’re being specific.
Anyway, when your child is sick, it’s easy to become supermom. It’s also really easy to start realizing all of the super gross things that moms just somehow become responsible for after producing heirs to their throne. Or something like that.
So since it seems like we need a little lightheartedness tonight – or at least this mama does – let me share with you some of the nastiest moments of my parenting career. And I will warn you: they’re gross.
Sometimes, we reach into our purse/diaper bag/stroller basket and realize that there is something really nasty in there. And now it’s on our hand. Like half a banana that our toddler decided they didn’t want. And then hid. And we didn’t know it until it was a disgusting three week old mess all over our hand. And the inside of our bag. A couple of times I haven’t even been able to tell WHAT I’m pulling out of my bag. Amazing.
We are poop detectives. If you’ve just joined us, welcome to the club. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sniffed a suspicious diaper, analyzed color/content/consistency and spent time looking up this or that related to diaper contents. Oh, the things you’ll do for your child. It’s actually a little embarrassing. Well, it would be. If I wasn’t a mom. Now, it’s just mommy reality.
We get puked on. Yes, we get pooped on too. But that’s more…avoidable. When your kid is sick, you are the cuddle factory. Even when they’re puking. Your mommy genes don’t allow you to really leave your child’s side. This means you get puked on. It also means you get the fun task of cleaning up any projectile puke from your couch/stairs/bed/hair. The latter being definitely the most fun. Not that I’ve experienced it or anything.
We run around the house chasing a child yelling, “let me get that boogie!” Yes. This happens on a weekly basis in our house. I don’t want my child to be the kid with boogers hanging out of his nose. So I…chase him around and pick them for him. Wow, I really need to get a hobby.
We get to clean up the poop. Please note that “get to” should be interpreted in the least serious tone you can possibly imagine. Hey, ish happens, right? It’s super fun when it happens in places that it’s not supposed to happen. Actually, I think the poop stories are probably some of the grossest in my mommy history. Let me just list off my top five. If you don’t have kids, this may make you decide that you can just admire someone else’s from afar – so read with caution. I’m serious. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
- The first time Ricky pooped on me was, I think, two days after we brought him home from the hospital. Projectile poop on my shirt. I screamed. It still makes me a little nauseous, even though I can handle infant/baby/toddler poop without batting an eye these days. Rick thought it was hilarious, until he got peed on with the same diaper change.
- When you’re the parent of a newborn, you’re so tired that sometimes you miss things that are right in front of you. Like when Ricky was three months old and somehow, poop got on the wall next to his changing table. And I didn’t notice for about three diaper changes. Needless to say, the Clorox wipes were worth their weight in gold that afternoon.
- One Saturday morning last winter, I picked Ricky up out of his high chair and he was super cuddly. Like we could sit around and cuddle and watch cartoons for an hour kind of cuddly. I thought I had won the jackpot of winter Saturdays. So I gave him a big hug and felt something nasty creeping up my arm. Yep. a blowout. Up my arm. On my shirt. I’m pretty sure I somehow ended up with poop on my face in that moment. Lovely way to start the weekend.
- Two months ago I had him at the ear doctor for a quick appointment before I went to meet with a client. He had a blowout diaper. On my lap. Thinking it was just going to be a super quick stop, I didn’t bring the diaper bag with me. BIG mistake. Huge. His diaper leaked onto my lap. It was…smelly. And although I will never fully admit it, I was actually slightly mortified and got my butt out of there as fast as I possibly could.
- Pooping in the tub. I’m not even going to elaborate beyond saying that my house is always stocked with bleach. Always.
So tell me…what are your grossest kid stories? Sharing is caring. Seriously.