I woke up to a handful of little fingers trying to pry my mouth open. Normally I wouldn't mind the gesture so much but I spewed the tiny little fingers out because I either smelled or tasted poop. I'm still not sure which sense had my fecal radar going off but I was sure those precious little paws had been in direct contact with some number 2. I grabbed his hands and didn't see any residue. I looked down to see a diaper free naked booty sitting on top of me. I tipped him over but there didn't appear to be any poo on his bum either. I was relieved for a moment as I was thinking that, In my delirium, I must have been confused about what I smelled/tasted but the relief faded quickly as I realized it was 8:30 and Bruce the dog was sitting at the bedroom door waiting to be let out. I began to pray "Dear Lord, please do not let this be dog poop that my child has encountered and kindly shared with my actual mouth...." But then I saw it.
Fortunately it did not belong to Bruce the dog.
Yes, there are fortunate sides to poopcidents too.
When it comes to my own personal poo comfort scale, I would infinitely rather pick up dog poo than human poo.
I mean can you imagine sticking your hand in a produce bag and grabbing a fresh human log off the lawn...like no, let's not even go there.
However, if that human is under a certain age or size than their poo rates much lower than dog poo on the disgusting scale and therefore I am grateful that If I was going to have excrement smeared across my pillow shams and carpet than at least I was dealing with the miniature human variety rather than canine.
So now that we have clarified that, Let me continue. I finally see amongst the scattered books and atop my new pillow shams and the recently cleaned carpet, the smears and nuggets that my dearest baby son has distributed for my welcome to real life ceremony of the day.
Upon further inspection, the Ralph Lauren feather pillow that was stuffing my new, now poo smothered, sham was soaked through with urine as was curious George and the bunny. I also noticed noticed some smears on his t-shirt at this point.
What proceeded was one of those moments where you just freeze instead of taking action because you really don't know where to start. Should I clean my mouth, my baby or the actual piles and smears of poo up first? Should I put I diaper on him first or should I let the dog out it so he doesn't trample through this stink and make this dandy ole yankee doo doo mess even bigger?
Well needless to say, I did what all good moms would do, took a picture to document the proud moment, then [mostly] cleaned everything up, made a cup of coffee and went on with my day.
Parenting Lessons I learned from this incident.
1.Toddlers are tiny havoc wreaking ninjas.
2. Nice things are for people Who don't have children.
3. Anything you think about bringing into your home, first ask yourself if you are okay with a scenario where it might be covered in some type of bodily fluid or byproduct.
4. Life is good even on the days that start with poopy fingers in my mouth and I'd clean poo off everything, everyday to get to do life with this kid.
Love,
Mrs. Cuckoo
No comments:
Post a Comment