Usually, I post when I feel I have something worthy to share with the world. Something uplifting, encouraging, eloquent…you know, worth your limited time. But after a particularly disgusting “mom weekend” I have decided to change it up with a look into the less glamorous parts of motherhood. Beware, you won’t find any words of wisdom or heart-warming stories in this post. But, you parents out there should enjoy a good laugh in knowing you are not alone in the “hazmat” duty we are forced to perform as mothers (and fathers; but, really, mothers – we all know who gets stuck with the (ahem) unpleasant side of child-rearing!) Please post some of your own gross motherhood moments that have made you think, “I can’t believe I am doing this!”
So here it is! The Top Ten Most DISGUSTING Things I Have Had To Do As A Mother…
10) Decided which pants I should wear for the day by determining which baby bodily fluid stain disgusted me least — poop, pee, or spit-up. (Baby spit-up won – in case you were wondering.)
9) Caught baby poop in my hands as my naked 9-month-old squatted underneath my desk and attempted to defecate on my computer’s power strip (after he had already peed on aforementioned power strip).
8) Gotten a mouth full of pee during a diaper change. You pansies with girls have no idea what I am talking about. You need DEFENSE against those little suckers… and to think I originally mocked the “pee-pee teepee”.
7) Stuck elbow deep in a toilet after my toddler shoved massive amounts of toilet paper and various other bathroom accouterments into the toilet…correction, a USED toilet, we’re talkin’ #2 here people.
6) Caught puke in my hands…once, twice, three times (a lady…). I’ve lost count how many times I have caught puke. My average for perfect puke catching reflexes is impressive. My children’s aim, on the other hand, sucks.
5) Pulled puke chunks out of an overflowing sink after my child profusely vomited into the sink instead of toilet, clogged the drain and then overflowed the sink by turning the water on (to “help”) while the drain was clogged. Oh, wait! That wasn’t my children – that was my husband! Yes, honey, “I must really love you.” (Although I have discovered from my puke cleaning episodes that neither my children NOR my husband have mastered the art of CHEWING.)
4) Wiped butt…after butt…after butt…after butt. In fact, I’ve wiped so many butts I could write a book about techniques in butt wiping. There’s the “Touch your toes buddy!” maneuver , the “Toilet Seat Shuffle” (which always ends up with more poop on the seat than the paper), and the ever popular “Pin Naked Child To The Floor Screaming After They Have Used the Living Room Carpet as Toilet Paper” karate move.
3) Inspected poop of all shapes and sizes. Why? Because every mother is weirdly obsessed with (and sometimes proud of) their child’s feces. A phenomenon that can only be understood once one becomes a parent.
2) Collect stool samples from an uncooperative (sorta toilet trained) child in which the sample “can not touch the toilet water” and must be “freshly caught and delivered to the laboratory within 24 hours” (Wait a minute, am I fishing or putting feces into test tubes with a little plastic shovel?).
I know, I know. I talk a lot about poop. (I hope I didn’t catch you at mealtime.) I can’t help the poop-talk. It takes up a large portion of my day. Thankfully, the percentage of which is shrinking as my children get older. I promise – no more poop anecdotes! Are you ready for #1? Drum roll please…
1) CHILDBIRTH!!! Yeah, yeah, I know – it’s a magical thing. But, let’s get real here, it’s D-I-S-G-U-S-T-I-N-G! There’s the whole pregnancy part that makes you gassier than a frat boy and eat amounts/types/combos of food typically reserved for “Fear Factor”. And let’s not forget the fact that every few weeks some stranger’s hand is up your yoohoo checking things like “mucus plugs” and “membrane elasticity”. Childbirth — ahhh… so beautiful; and yet, it often starts with vomiting, diarrhea, and a deluge of fluids you never knew existed. A process so messy that my OB has to change socks between each delivery and is dressed like a hockey goalie while catching my baby. A process so gruesome that the bathroom I used after the birth of my first son looked like the scene from a macabre horror flick – bloody hand prints on the wall and all. And what’s this about a placenta??? (Made them show me it the last time around. It’s enough to gross out any pre-pubescent boy. Fun Fact: Did you know some people decoupage their placenta and make it into a modern art piece??!!) And, let’s not even go into what happens to our bodies after the birth that no one, and I mean NO ONE, warns us about. Misplaced organs, peeing your pants, hemorrhoids, varicose veins …pooping your pants!!! Uh-oh, I’m back to the poop. If it’s not our child’s its our own. I guess we can’t escape it.
My existential piece of wisdom for you today is simple:
Parenting = poop