Thursday, July 31, 2014

Thursday's Thoughts

Who me?! I'm an angel.
I had an experience this week that I felt that I needed to share. I strive to keep it real, and I think that keeping parenting real is actually really hard. I know that I want to present the most beautiful pictures of N. with the prettiest outfits and sweetest smiles, but sometimes that ain't what it looks like...okay a lot of the time that isn't what it looks like round these parts, and this particular occurrence was too good not to mention. As I've said, N. is really quite a good, happy baby, and being with her is pretty joyful most of the time, but the lack of sleep over the past five + months is starting to take its toll on me. Tuesday was one of those days when I wondered how it would be humanly possible to go on without a good night's sleep. I didn't sleep well when I was pregnant, so I think I went into motherhood with a bit of a deficit. Then there is the labor. Then there is the first night after the labor when you are beyond tired but your husband is sick so he can't get up with the baby. And then there are all the nights after that when your baby doesn't really want to sleep and appears to be ravenous and eager to sidle up to the all night milk bar that is your body. (I know she doesn't need to eat three times a night to survive. I know I could sleep train...I know. But I haven't done these things--although I think the time might be coming for a change.) You get it, right? I'm tired.

This brings us to Tuesday afternoon. My sister and I took my grandma out to lunch with baby N. On the way home my grandma wanted to pick up some groceries. I opted to stay in the car because the baby needed to nurse (again). So, I'm in the parking lot of the store happily nursing away and enjoying a quiet moment (yes, these can happen while nursing in the car in a store parking lot), and suddenly I feel something warm on my legs. I happened to be wearing all white. This was probably an error in judgement. I am sure you can see where this is going. There was poop. Everywhere. I tried to lift her up, but the poop just kept flowing. She was wearing shorts (also white), so there was nothing to hold the poop in, and it runneth over, and out, and all across the car seats. My shorts, legs, and (let's be honest) underwear were drenched in poop. The car seat was a puddle of poop, and the baby had poop up to her hair line. I got up and carried her to the trunk of the car where I put her down (it is an SUV, so the trunk is raised and very open, in my defense) while I tried to sop up the poo on the car seats. I called my sister who was in the store and who came running out with a hand full of paper towels...I'm not even sure where she got them...because she sensed from my voice that there was bodily fluid of some sort involved in my horror.

Long story short, I ended up dropping trou in the parking lot, wiping myself with her baby wipes, and styling a swaddling blanket as a skirt, before bursting into tears from being so damn tired. It was not my most glamorous moment.

The other day, sweetly and with no malintent, someone without children asked me, "What do you do all day?" At the time, I made something up to sound "legitimately" engaged in worldly affairs. But, to be honest, some days you just deal with the (literal) shit that comes your way, and it takes every bit of energy you have, and that's about it.

P.S. I love my daughter more than anything. During poop-gate she just smiled and cooed. (Even when she was covered in an exfoliating combination of poo and sand from being put in the trunk that hadn't been vacuumed after our beach trip). What a champ.

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