The following is a post from May 3, 2001. It was on a message board I used to frequent. Not being anyone’s mother, I saved it to remind me why I wasn’t anyone’s mother.
First, I have to tell you I am miserable with my DH in NJ. We are transferring up there in June, but he has had to begin his assignment there now. He will be home for a month of paternity leave on May 26th. If I ever complain about how little he does, someone needs to slap me. I can’t believe how much he was doing. I am exhausted without him here.
So today, I have to be at a room mother meeting at school at 8AM. Brighid gets dropped off at 7:30, and the cafeteria, where the meeting is being held, isn’t open until 7:50. I took a bottle with me, figuring I would drop Brighid off, then park and feed Eilis. That way, I theorized, she would sleep through the meeting.
Now, Eilis has gone from pooping 4 or 5 times a day to pooping every couple of days. It’s a manageable amount every two or three days, but definitely more than she was going when she had 5 BM’s a day. So today, of course, while I’m in the parking lot, she decides it’s her day to go. I wait patiently for her to finish, then debate whether or not to change her or wait until the meeting is over. I decide to change her — there were going to be some moms there who hadn’t met her yet, and I didn’t want everyone oohing and aahing over how stinky she was.
So, I lay out the diaper, the wipes, the plastic bag to put the dirty diaper in, etc. I situate Eilis on the front seat of the car, and I start to change her. She does have a pretty muddy diaper, so I am glad that I made the decision not to let her sit in the mud for an hour long meeting. I get her all cleaned up, place the nice fresh diaper under her, and then it happened.
Like the fountain at EPCOT center, poop comes flying from her butt, shooting in all directions, spraying passers by, changing colors and playing classical music. Okay, there was no music. I was covered in poop from my chin to my knees. The whole front seat of my car (which, by the way, my husband just cleaned before he left for NJ) was covered in poop. Eilis is laying there happy as a pig in – well, let’s just say she was happy. I went through two new packs of portable wipes, I used the blanket I had with me, and I soaked up two cloth diapers. Eilis had poop in between her toes, in between her little chubby knees – it was a disaster.
Needless to say, I didn’t go into my meeting. I raced home, stripped naked, pre-spotted all of my clothes, stripped Eilis, threw her in the tub (still smiling and cooing), showered myself, and did a load of wash. Apparently, poop doesn’t come out of white shorts – my shorts are back in with more pre-spot. Now I have to find a nice way to explain to the other room moms from my grade who were counting on me to get the info why I wasn’t there.
Oh, the joys of motherhood
The following is a post from May 3, 2001. It was on a message board I used to frequent. Not being anyone’s mother, I saved it to remind me why I wasn’t anyone’s mother.
First, I have to tell you I am miserable with my DH in NJ. We are transferring up there in June, but he has had to begin his assignment there now. He will be home for a month of paternity leave on May 26th. If I ever complain about how little he does, someone needs to slap me. I can’t believe how much he was doing. I am exhausted without him here.
So today, I have to be at a room mother meeting at school at 8AM. Brighid gets dropped off at 7:30, and the cafeteria, where the meeting is being held, isn’t open until 7:50. I took a bottle with me, figuring I would drop Brighid off, then park and feed Eilis. That way, I theorized, she would sleep through the meeting.
Now, Eilis has gone from pooping 4 or 5 times a day to pooping every couple of days. It’s a manageable amount every two or three days, but definitely more than she was going when she had 5 BM’s a day. So today, of course, while I’m in the parking lot, she decides it’s her day to go. I wait patiently for her to finish, then debate whether or not to change her or wait until the meeting is over. I decide to change her — there were going to be some moms there who hadn’t met her yet, and I didn’t want everyone oohing and aahing over how stinky she was.
So, I lay out the diaper, the wipes, the plastic bag to put the dirty diaper in, etc. I situate Eilis on the front seat of the car, and I start to change her. She does have a pretty muddy diaper, so I am glad that I made the decision not to let her sit in the mud for an hour long meeting. I get her all cleaned up, place the nice fresh diaper under her, and then it happened.
Like the fountain at EPCOT center, poop comes flying from her butt, shooting in all directions, spraying passers by, changing colors and playing classical music. Okay, there was no music. I was covered in poop from my chin to my knees. The whole front seat of my car (which, by the way, my husband just cleaned before he left for NJ) was covered in poop. Eilis is laying there happy as a pig in – well, let’s just say she was happy. I went through two new packs of portable wipes, I used the blanket I had with me, and I soaked up two cloth diapers. Eilis had poop in between her toes, in between her little chubby knees – it was a disaster.
Needless to say, I didn’t go into my meeting. I raced home, stripped naked, pre-spotted all of my clothes, stripped Eilis, threw her in the tub (still smiling and cooing), showered myself, and did a load of wash. Apparently, poop doesn’t come out of white shorts – my shorts are back in with more pre-spot. Now I have to find a nice way to explain to the other room moms from my grade who were counting on me to get the info why I wasn’t there.
Oh, the joys of motherhood.
Anna