Friday, June 11, 2010

The poop

Yesterday was interesting. I was in the middle of feeding Brynn in the living room when Her Highness Hadley demanded my attention in the kitchen. Apparently, she had deemed it snack time. I diligently popped Brynn into her swing and assisted Hadley in getting her snack ready.

Once Hadley was settled, I scooped Brynn back up and sat back down so that we could finish her meal. That's when I felt it... a warm, oozy, stickiness rolling down my arm. Let's just say that I wasn't really prepared for that sensation. I jumped up and looked at Brynn's back only to see that the entirety of her clothing was COVERED in poop. Her back, her side, her hair, all of it was covered. Her swing wasn't spared, either. I ran to the back of the house, plopped Brynn on her changing table and undressed her as fast as I could. Of course, she squirmed like crazy and smeared poop all over me and the changing table. Then, as if on command, Brynn started pooping again. So, I'm standing there trying to catch poop on the open, already poopy, diaper and Hadley starts calling me, i.e., crying/ whining from the kitchen. She wanted more graham crackers. Of course.

Somehow, I got everyone and everything cleaned up and both girls fed, but really, I'm not sure how. It was all a blur and ended with me running around the house in my skivvies trying to get everyone calm, clean, and happy. If nothing else, parenting has taught me that juggling is crucial. As long as I can keep all the balls in the air, I'm usually okay. It's when the balls are covered in poop that I'm in trouble.

2 comments:

Cassie said...

"It's when the balls are covered in poop that I'm in trouble." I am STILL LAUGHING, Keri! I'm sorry that happened, but I just can't help myself. Yes, we mothers have many roles: some of them downright unpleasant.

Cara said...

Oh dear, Keri! I am so sorry that happened to you! I think we've all that those days. I had a very similar day not long ago, except mine involved vomit. My son vomited on me, him, the couch, the floor, everywhere. When my husband walked in from work, my son and I were in the kitchen, stripped down to our undies, still covered in vomit (because my son tried to run through the vomit, slipped and fell). Nightmare at the time, but now it's slightly comical. Hang in there!

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