Thursday, June 04, 2009

About an Hour in My Day

11:38 a.m.- "Come on TD, we have to get a move on! It's time to go to Gymboree!"
I glance at The Comedian and think, "I should change you...." and I scoop her up out of the Bumbo.

11:39 a.m.- "WTF? Oh all that is holy in this world, why now?! Seriously kid? This is disgusting!!" I moan. "What's disgusting, Mommy?" TD asks. "Your sister. She just pooped EVERYWHERE! I don't even know if I'm qualified to clean this type of mess up. I might need to make a few phone calls..."

11:41 a.m.- Poop. It is everywhere. I quickly move from the pack and play to the nursery. The shirt cannot be salvaged. Neither can the burp cloth I have laying on the changing table. I have already used about a days worth of wipes in the last two minutes. We don't have time for the tub. This is totally an unprecedented situation though. I have to pull The Comedian's arms out of her shirt and slide it down her body or else we'll have a poop in hair situation on our hands. There is now poop on the wall. The changing table is a bio-hazard area and I cannot seem to contain it.

11:50 a.m.- I have now tossed everything on the changing table- diaper, wipes, one entire outfit, a washcloth and two burp cloths into the trusted Diaper Genie. The Comedian has been washed, dried, lotioned back to sweet smelling baby status and is in a clean, poop-free outfit. At last. I scoop her up and walk to the bathroom to wash my hands. It is there that I see the most disgusting thing of all. There in not one but two spots on my pristine white shirt is poop. I HAVE POOP ON ME. "What if I had forgotten to wash my hands?" My brain screams. The answer: I would have walked into our first day at Gymboree as the Mom who didn't even notice she had fecal matter smeared on her shirt. Any future friends to be made there would have instantly disappeared. The poop would have stayed.

I dash upstairs and grab a shirt out of the clean laundry and very carefully take the offending shirt off and toss it into the laundry monster mess. I dash downstairs and like a POW camp leader order everyone into the car MOW! (Yes, I mean mow.)

12:06 p.m.- We are all buckled into the car and are on our way to Gymboree's 12:15 class.

12:10 p.m.- "Hey! Watch it! " I yell at a driver who swerved into my lane. I have to slam on my brakes and beep the horn as I simultaneously swerve almost entirely up onto a median to avoid this broad who has no knowledge of my giant SUV being next to her tiny two door. Grr... Inhale. Exhale.

12:15 p.m.- We made it! We make the long haul to Gymboree which is on the second floor of an office park. Really, Gymboree? The second floor? How thoughtful. The Comedian is not getting any lighter in her baby carrier and I will not scoop her out of it and wake her. This is her sister's time. Not hers.

12:45 p.m.- TD has had a tour, talked with some kids and I've gotten the gist from some Moms as well as some glowing reviews for Bubble Camp which TD starts on Monday. Praise the Gymboree geniuses who thought up that idea. $35 every Monday gets TD a full day of music, food, kid time, art classes and more. A FULL day. I am ecstatic for her and for me.

12:50 p.m.- Back in the car and driving to the post office across the street I have to slam on my breaks to avoid being hit by the beater car that has whipped around the corner. For reals people. I yell, "Watch it! You stupid a**hole!" To which TD replies, "Mommy! You shouldn't call people stupid a**holes. That's not very nice." Her pronunciation of key words is spot on. "I'm sorry TD. You are right. Mommy should not call people names and should not say the word a**hole. That is not nice. Thank you." "It's OK, Mommy. Just don't say a**hole anymore."

On the drive home a thought crossed my mind. "Hm... I never did check the Bumbo for poop...."

Later that day H informed me that he never needs to know about these horrific poop situations. I kindly informed him that indeed he does need to know. He absolutely needs to know.

Fun, Frugal Father's Day guide on Mummy's Product Reviews. Check it out!

It's also my final post on 23andMe. Sniff..sniff... I blog about my parents and I taking the test together in, A Family Affair, Read more....


  1. Hells yeah he absolutely has to know!

  2. I don't know what it is about the bumbo that makes for huge diaper blow-outs. My #2 always had huge poop messes in that thing. I learned (after many such mornings as yours) not to put her in it if we were about to walk out the door. Seriously, it should be marketed for those with constipation problems, it is unbelieveable.

  3. Anonymous6:03 PM

    To ensure he knows, I'd smear some in his pillow case. But that's just me.... :)

  4. Bwahahaha! I LOVE this! At least you didn't accidentally EAT poop thinking it was chocolate like I once did. yeah.

  5. I agree he needs to know!

    And I love that one commenter ate poop on accident! Sometimes your stories are a great form of birth control!


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