One of those days…

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Picture a slightly less peaceful scene...

Prior to becoming a mommy, I never quite understood why (a) mommies always look so tired and (b) they utter the phrase “It’s been one of those mornings,” with such exasperation and dread. Well, here’s why…

A few days ago I woke up on a glorious morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after my FIRST full night’s sleep. I should mention that Matilda is now sleeping in her crib and actually sleeps through the night. What’s more is that I am now able to, miraculously, sleep through the night as well. As opposed to the first few nights I put her in her crib when I would wake up every 15 minutes to stare at the baby monitor to make sure she was still alive. Unconvinced that the video monitor was proof enough, I would get out of bed to go make sure she was still breathing, in person. I’m happy to report those nights are over. But back to my lovely morning…

I woke up to the sound of Tilly fussing and squirming, my cue to go make her bottle and my first pot of coffee. As I made my way to her crib I had a strange feeling of calmness. I couldn’t believe how well the night and morning were panning out. If this is how my life with a baby was going to be, then I was one happy mommy. Then it hit me, a faint smell coming from what appeared to be a pool of chocolate underneath my baby, only it obviously wasn’t chocolate. Matilda lay peacefully snoozing while I frantically picked her up and began to assess the situation; how the hell does on go about dealing with such a disaster? Should I change her or change the bed? Do I leave the mess and feed her before she starts hollering? Or wait…should I just cut her clothes off so as to minimize both her and my exposure to the fecal mess? Better yet, I need to bathe her, ‘cause there certainly was poop in places poop should not be. As I pondered this mess I could hear my dog pacing back and forth, this was a little unusual seeing as she more often than not doesn’t bother to get up for the first morning feeding. She’s a bulldog after all and very much values her beauty sleep. Then, suddenly, she stopped pacing and that’s when I heard her PUKE all over the bathroom. Seriously? Pardon my French, but “Fuck my life!!!!”

I now stood holding my baby out like a dirty rag, staring at a shit-covered crib and fully aware of the puke-filled bathroom that awaited me. I ran to the bathroom to (a) stop my dog from eating her own vomit (dogs do this, gross but true) and (b) rinse my child off under the faucet (you learn to do such things after a while), then I proceeded to pry the remainder of the sodden-clothes off of my baby, change her, make a bottle, feed the dog and the baby, rock the baby and change the crib sheets. I’m still not quite sure in what order or how I did all this…all I remember is that at some point my husband stumbled out of bed and heroically asked if I needed his help. Thank you, f-ing Super Dad to the rescue! Is it me, or do husbands perfectly time waking up to exactly a minute AFTER you’re done doing all of the above? Granted my husband is a huge help, but let’s just say he’s not a morning person…so any assistance he may offer has to wait ‘til after he’s had his coffee…and well, shitty babies and puking dogs aren’t the most patient of creatures.

The most amazing thing about this story is that when I shared it with my friend on our mommy-date she didn’t flinch nor seem surprised by any of it. In fact, she kind of one-upped me…

On a beautiful Saturday morning, my lovely, seasoned mommy-of-two friend decided to take a stroll in the park. She headed off with her babies and a lightweight purse, no diaper bag in sight. A couple hours later she found herself covered in baby doo-doo. It literally dripped off her shirt and pants all the way down to her toes. Turns out her little man was a wee-bit constipated, and let’s face it, nothing like a long walk to get those bowels going. All that nature and fresh air were enough to kick his intestinal tract into gear. Lucky for her, parks tend to be filled with other better equip mommies with lots of wipes and diapers. Let me just say that whoever invented the diaper needs to take a cue from the inventor of the tampon. We mommies must demand that they come out with an array of diapers: the ultra-thin, regular, heavy and super-heavy should all exist in diaper-land. Also, another thing I may point out is that a mommy should NEVER leave the house without a fully loaded diaper bag, packed with everything including a change of clothes for Mama Bear. Tisk tisk! By doing so one would avoid having to change in the backseat of your maid’s car. I can’t imagine that trying to put on a faja/spanx in such a confined space would be very easy…and yes, I just ousted all us new-mommies…we wear ‘em, yes we do.

Lessons to be learned: get comfortable with poop, you will be seeing lots of it. I for one am sure this won’t be the last time I address the subject matter.

 

Picture a slightly less peaceful scene...

Picture a slightly less peaceful scene…

StubbornTalesOne of those days…

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