April 04, 2017
Posted By: Bunny Foo Foo
Written by The Motherhood Bozeman
There is a time in every parent's life when the words "Oh shit!" are very appropriate.
Let me share a story with you. It isn't a fairy tale with a romantic happily-ever-after ending, but I will kick it off with "once upon a time."
"Once upon a time..." there was a mother sleeping peacefully in her bed sandwiched between her partner, her toddler and her two dogs. The mother is a night owl and prefers to wake up well after the sun has done its dawning.
But this morning was different. Something roused the mother at 0400, just prior to when her husband normally arose for work. You see, her sweet toddler woke up screaming, "I is hungry! I want toast!" This was pretty unusual since said toddler also liked to sleep well after dawn.
The mother woke up nonetheless and succumbed to the toddlers toast request, as odd as it was.
After the bread was toasted and jelly applied, the partner awoke surprised to see mother and toddler up and nibbling toast. When the toast was put aside, the mother carted the sweet toddler to bed and they snuggled under the warm blankets.
A few minutes later, her partner was fed, dressed, waving good-bye and off to work.
The beautiful quiet only lasted two minutes before the toddler screamed, "I is hungry" and jumped out of the bed. The mother sighed a sigh of acceptance. "This is what today will look like," she thought and rose from the bed. The toddler rhythmically cried, "I is hungry," paused and then cried again. The frequency and tone seemed unusual and concerning now.
The mother knelt down and hugged her sweet screaming toddler. Then she discovered the toddler’s belly was tight, and she could feel the rhythmic contracting of the baby's intestines. And all the mother could think was "Oh, shit, oh fucking shit."
She reached her arms around the baby's body and hugged her. The toddler changed her cries to "Up, hold me, up!" and the mother responded just as expected. She slid her arm down the baby's back, over the cloth diaper cover to the crook of her knees. She paused, uncertain what was hitting her first – the smell or the feel, but the feel certainly hit her the hardest. It was warm and oatmeal-like but thinner. The smell was sour, fishy and sweet all at the same time. And the mother thought, "Oh, shit!"
The toddler screamed "I is hungry!" and the mother felt the baby's body contract and cling to her while hearing the most god-awful sound, similar to the farting flubber kids buy in the dollar store, but distinctly wetter . . . ththththtfffffllllurrrrppsh. And all she could do was hold her baby. Then it was quiet. The wave of odor caused an instinctual gagging, heaving response in the mother. The baby clung to her and repeated "I is hungry," and then the mother connected the cries to the intestinal contractions and she braced for the sound and smell but was still caught off guard by a new sensation. She felt the warm thin oatmeal sludge spill out of the diaper and roll, ooze and drip over her forearms. "Oh shit."
This repeated a few more times before the toddler's guts were empty and she was quiet. The mother steadied the toddler and stood up, turning the bedroom light on. Looking down, she saw the poor toddler standing in a pile of "Oh, shit" and saw her own arms covered in "Oh, shit" and she sighed "Oh fucking shit." She quickly grabbed wet wipes and began cleaning off her arms, toddler legs and toes – going fast and feeling thankful for the powerfully fragrant wet wipes.
The mother's small dog came and nudged her to go outside. The mother said, "Not now, wait a minute and please don't add a pile to this pile," and continued cleaning the sweet but smelly toddler and herself. One million wet wipes and a diaper change later, the toddler and mother were clean-ish. The mother returned to the carpet where the pile of "Oh shit" was, prepared to exhaust another package of wipes but when she reached the location where the pile had been she saw her smiling dog and a clean-ish carpet.