The moment when you step on something on the bathroom floor. You look down to see a dried mass of brown….something. Then three feet away you notice the wet toilet paper with a matching brown mass of ….something. Then you remember how 5 minutes before hand you had your foot on the counter and your husband was pulling a small piece of glass out of a cut. Then visions of your foot getting infected, falling off and having a peg leg shoot into your head. Yes, this was my Monday morning and yes it was dried poop.
I wont bore you with the disgusting details of the conversation we had discussing why Bug left poop and poopy toilet paper on the ground. However, I will tell you it was quiet entertaining.
The moment when you realize it’s not just baby drool that landed on your arm. It’s copious amounts of baby poop.
SB was VERY hungry at the Mexican restaurant last night. She ate a serving of rice and a double portion of beans and a tomato. Which apparently made its return this morning in the form of nasty smelling poo.
Just imagine opening the nursery door and seeing a happy and smiling baby eager to see you and play. You lift her up and then pull her close giving her smooches and then you feel it; a wet sensation on your arm. You brush the feeling out of your mind. You’ve had three kids, a little drool is nothing to scoff at. And proceed to change and dress said happy smiling baby. And then the smell hits you. Like a smack in the face. Or in the case, a smack of poop hitting you ok the arm. As I looked down I saw the tomatoes… from last night. Insert loud high pitched girly screaming and you have my reaction.
And there you have it. My Friday morning. Seems these “The Moment When…” posts are becoming a regular thing. Hope you enjoy me sacrificing my perfect picture of mommydom to giving you all too realistic episodes of how real mommies live.
The moment when… your potty trained kid tells you their underware is wet and they don’t remember where the peed.
Seriously, I’m not joking. This happened to Diva earlier this week. We are all getting ready for school and she finds me holding her underware telling me its wet. I take her for her word and tell her to go put it in the wash. Then I start the interrogation. “Where did you pee? The bed? Bugs bed? The floor? Your room? Bugs room? The bathroom?” I kept asking and she kept replying “I don’t know”. And if you know Diva this is her standard reply.
So I feel her bed, look around the kids rooms and nothing. And now we are running late for school. But riddle me this batman- how can you forget where you pee?! Especially when you don’t do it in the bathroom. I mean how hard is it to find one of three bathrooms this house has and use it!
So now your asking “well, where did she pee?”. The answer was discover about 12 hours after the incident took place. So not only was the smell nauseating, the dried pee made even the toughest men gag (I swear this as I made Hubs help Diva clean it up).
Luckily Diva chose her pee spot directly across from the laundry room for easy clean up. However, it was in my office floor. So much for trying to get organized. I had stuff off the shelves and on the floor for reorganization. So instead of going back on the shelves; they go in the trash.
But seriously! Why pee on my floor. I could only stop and stare at her when I found it. Because for once, I was speechless.