A Momma Moment

As I hold the current position of The Only Mother Of The Group, I feel it is my duty to talk about poop. Poop is the quintessential essence of parenthood. The item I talk about most, deal with most, and understand in a completely new light after becoming a mother is poop. I revere it yet don't fear it, I understand how to analyze it, in short, I am a poop expert. All mothers are. I once laughed with Nat that I knew motherhood meant diapers, and snotty noses, and puke, and probably trips to the emergency room. But I had NO IDEA how much motherhood is really about poop. I touch poop every day. I clean it out of the bathtub, out of the shower, out of the carpet, out of clothing, out of my fingernails. I leave the house for 5 minutes to run to the grocery store and don't bring the diaper bag because BOTH boys JUST POOPED 10 minutes ago and inevitably their little brains overhear me say that I am not going to bring the diaper bag and therefore they decide they should BOTH blow out their diapers to such an extent that I cannot bring them in the store and will also be cleaning poop out of car seats.

Today was no exception. I had to take Nat to a doctor's appointment. I say "had" because I had to drive him home; he wasn't allowed to drive because the doctor had to drug him up. This was an important appointment: this was the Vasectomy Appointment. It is important for Limiting Future Amounts of Poop. I can look forward to only the (massive volume of) poop that two boys can produce, not more. Anyway, I left Miles, the older son, with my mom. I brought Søren, the baby, with us. Now, Søren hates the car. I mean he HATES the car. After driving to the clinic half an hour away to the tune of "WAH WAH WAH" provided by my youngest darling, and dropping Nat off, I decided I would go to the second-hand baby store and peruse the goods. Søren, still screaming, would love the opportunity to get out of the car seat (or "baby jail" as we call it). By the time I got to the store, he was practically in convulsions. No biggie, I thought. I'll get him out, grab my wallet, and find a toy with a mirror to soothe his soul.

Here's where it gets to the awesome part. My wallet was in the diaper bag which was conveniently at home on my couch. Oops. Not only was I without dough, I was without diapers, extra clothing, wipes. I know, classic. The thing is, I am usually a very thoughtful diaper-bag-packer. I always have extra shirts, extra snacks, extra socks. I glanced at my watch. Still an hour to go. I decided to risk it and take the baby to a quiet park so I could nurse him and hopefully put him to sleep. I say "risk it" because another thing They don't tell you about having babies (damn Them) is that little babies LOOOOOOOOOVE to poop immediately after eating, if not during. Nursing, however, was the only way I was going to get this little guy to calm down. So we drive. He cries. We park. I climb in the back seat. We nurse. He decides he is happy Søren and we play and I call Nicole on the phone to chat. And then. THEN. I open my big mouth and tell Nicole that I am playing it dangerously by not having the diaper bag with me. She laughs. And minutes later, Søren lets loose with a diaper explosion so loud that Nicole could hear it over the cell phone. Poop up the back. All over the shirt.


Of course this is also the moment Nat calls to say he is ready to go home. I put the happy, poopy Søren in his carseat and watch the instant transformation from happy, cooing baby to screaming-crying-gasping-oh-my-god-I'm-DYING baby. I pick up Nat, who is waiting outside the closed clinic. We decide to just drive home and change the baby there, figuring we can just give him a bath. But, of course, Søren falls asleep literally TWO BLOCKS from our house. As I get in the door, and explain the situation to my mom who is feeding Miles, Miles gleefully looks up at me and says, "Baby. Poop-o-rama." And.....scene.

But of course I don't mind. I changed the diaper. I'll change more. Maybe I'll learn from my lesson, but I probably won't. I'm sure it will happen again. And I'll laugh. With a kid this cute, how could I not?