Survivor, The Real World, The Apprentice, Supernanny, Hells Kitchen, Naked and Afraid. Sometimes motherhood feels like a Reality Show marathon. And you pick-up the remote only to find out it’s the same on every channel. Some days all you can do is laugh. There are so many moments of motherhood where I have found myself – well just in that amazement of what just happened. How is this even possible? It’s almost just comedic how crazy motherhood can be some days. Cue the laugh track.
Episode 34 “Double Doodie”.
Scene opens on me in the kitchen getting the toddler in her chair at the table, where we begin the “Let’s Make a Deal” negotiation of cereal vs fruit snacks. The problem is that she knows what’s behind all cupboard doors one, two and three. Finally, after wheeling and dealing with her, she can start to eat breakfast.
As scripted each and every morning, I’m standing in the kitchen refilling her sippy cup while balancing her bother on my hip. Then I hear it – the plop. An odd sound like a bag of wet towels hitting the floor. A sound that raises an uncomfortable curiosity. I look down and see a large amount of poo on the floor. Cue the laugh track.
It took a moment to even realize what it was or where it even came from. Maybe it was mommy brain, the lack of sleep, or the sheer shock of what I was looking at, but it took me a few moments to realize that the only place it could have come from was baby on my hip. This sweet smiling baby, who promptly started giggling at his achievement. I had never experienced a blowout to this extent.
Is this what I can expect moving forward feeding ‘real’ food to my baby boy?
Just like the storyline of any episode of “Hells Kitchen”, damage assessment begins quickly.
I decided the best bet at this point is to peel any sacrificed clothing off, wrapping him in my spared shirt.
I get him appropriately covered and safely out of the way, so I can retrieve the toddler from her front row seat at the kitchen table. In the swift split second that I set her down on the floor, only momentarily turning to check on the source of the problem which is now a giggling distraction, the toddler takes off running. She sprints to investigate why the baby, who is now bellying laughing, is wrapped up in mom’s shirt. I reaching for her, but miss the tail of her pajama shirt. She promptly lands in the spreading puddle on the floor, sliding feet first. Yes, now the toddler has it from her heels all the way up to her hair.
My reaction? I grab my phone to document the moment like was a pilot for the next reality series.
After I manage to get everyone up the stairs, bathed, and redressed, I to start the washer and dump the mess in – all the while wishing the washer had an incinerate spin cycle.
Later that night, I write this crazy morning in my son’s baby book. The challenging times are as valuable stories to remember as the other special ones. Moms should have their own reality tv shows. No one would ever really believe what our typical days can be like. And sometimes all you can do is be your own laugh track.