I want to know, why do all the best most hilarious mothering stories have to do with poop? At least at this stage. Perhaps it is because at this stage the kids are not old enough to say loud and inappropriate things at the worst times. And if I am honest with myself, I sometimes say loud and inappropriate things when I am certainly old enough to know better. So I probably have that stuff coming to me.
I have never been very squeamish about much. I don’t like blood and have almost passed out at first aid presentations. But that was in junior high, I have gotten a lot better since then. I can even watch Grey’s Anatomy without closing my eyes. But bad smells and generally disgusting bodily fluids I have always been able to deal with pretty well. Except when I am pregnant. My gag reflex and sense of smell kicks in to overdrive.
WARNING: This is the part where I start telling hilarious poop stories. Well, hopefully hilarious.
I found this out last year at the Sunday after Thanksgiving dinner my mom was hosting. The Scientist (Em’s second) was hopping out of her seat and running back and forth around the table. The Scientist ran out of the room and when she came back she was swinging something back and forth. It was her diaper. And more importantly, as the Star (Em’s oldest) so aptly pointed out from the other side of the table as she stood on her chair, pointed, and yelled IT’S POOP! Emily was stuck behind our overly crowded table and thus could not get to the Scientist. So Jill grabbed the Scientist and I snatched the diaper. Jill cleaned her up so before the Scientist could sit on anything while I went to three different trash cans before I found an unoccupied bathroom where I could throw the offending object away. Then I went outside to make sure that if I threw up it would be in the bushes.
Recently, Christian was helping people move and I was at home with the peanut. Our disposable diapers have snaps, but for whatever reason I grabbed a random hand me down diaper that was Velcro at the top. Hey, it matched the cutest little dress I put her in. I needed to run upstairs and check the laundry really quickly, so I left the Peanut in her nursery playing while I ran upstairs. I got distracted and the next thing I knew the Peanut was calling MAMA from the top of the stairs……with a diaper trailing behind her. Upon closer inspection there was a turd trailing out of that diaper. I stripped the Peanut and left her in the bathroom (after making sure she would be safe in there) while I simultaneously tried not to puke and picked up her little trail, and bleached the floor. This is the story that makes people crack up laughing.
And then last week I was babysitting, and I had to change the youngest’s diaper. And I realized I was making gagging noises and disgusting faces because he was mimicking every single thing my face was doing. Then I was laughing, gagging, making faces, and changing the diaper. It was as amusing as he thought it was.
So really, is this just the phase of parenting I am in right now. The poop story phase? I can’t wait to get into the “inappropriate and hysterical comment” stage. I was reminded yesterday that the Star spent a good portion of the French and Indian War re-enactment last summer yelling “I can see that Indian’s BUTT!” I guess that is funnier than poop. But it still has to do with butts…..