Abraham, Rachel, Soren and Liam. Our life together in Smalltown, Idaho.

Thursday, June 04, 2009

We interrupt this medical saga for an emergency complaint.

If motherhood hasn't been featured yet on "Dirty Jobs," the Discovery Channel needs to send Mike Rowe to my house.

A typical day in my life involves about 20-30 sizable spit-ups, 1-2 poopy toddler diapers(generally one of questionable color and consistency that has leaked onto clothing), 4 poopy infant diapers, and an endless stream of wet diapers. (Ha! Stream!)

Thursday, June 4, 2009, however, proved to be exceptionally dirty.

In addition to giving my hair and clothes their usual milky soaking, Liam also regurgitated on the kitchen floor, his carseat, the bathroom floor, his swing, the living room carpet, my bed, the rocker-recliner, the loveseat, and the couch.

Between baby barfs, Soren worked to make his own contribution. He woke up with a poopy diaper. He smeared the table, a chair, himself, and his mother with peanut butter and jelly. He removed his diaper and peed on the living room carpet. He then ran to his bedroom, where he pooped on the carpet in there. I managed to redirect his efforts to the training potty in the bathroom, which he promptly filled with poo. And some more pee. And while I was cleaning the poop and pee out of the training potty (and off of two wooden blocks that had been dropped in the potty earlier in the day), he peed again-- on the bathroom floor.

When Liam woke up from his nap, I discovered that he had filled his diaper-- and one leg of his jammies-- with yellow feces. I washed the poop out of his jammies (and off his legs and my arm) and thew them in the laundry.

In the meanwhile, Soren was in the kitchen, practicing pouring by filling up a juice pitcher with water and emptying it into an already overflowing glass on the kitchen counter. It took two towels to wipe all of that up.

I put Soren in dry clothes and sent him into the back yard to play while I attempted to pick up the house. In picking up, I discovered a blanket-- fresh out of the laundry after one of Soren's more out-of-control diapers had leaked-- that Liam's earlier diaper had also leaked onto that particular blanket.

Soren came back in with pants and shirt smeared with mud that he had created using an ordinary garden house and a patch of dirt. And by one o'clock, my children had easily worked up an "extra large" load of emergency laundry and several more stains in my cream-colored carpet.

A garbage man doesn't have anything on me. In the two and a half years that I have been a mother, I have been spit up on, thrown up on, pooped on, peed on, cried on, and/or drooled on every single day. I have had all manner of food smeared on my body. I have leaked milk all over myself. I have sucked huge boogers out of little nostrils. I change little outfits multiple times a day. The day after I began the draft of this post, Soren spent his two-hour long naptime digging black poop out of his diaper and smearing it on his bedding and into his carpet. It is a dirty, dirty job, and somebody's got to do it.

I just wish I could afford for that somebody to be somebody else.

12 comments:

Kate said...

Oh my! Sorry!

Porterhouse said...

upon reaching the end of the post I felt complete when at least one other mother in the neighborhood has had to clean up poo art.

Tianna said...

In good news, those of us who don't know the end of this medical saga just breathed a sigh of relief to know that Liam has at least made it home with enough life and energy to make such messes.

Mark said...

I feel rather dirty now, after I read that post. Dirty, dirty, dirty. Better go check my clothes...

Karen said...

Wow! That sounds REALLY fun! I am so baby hungry now! ;-D

Collette said...

I'm glad to see that you've recorded, in fine detail, what I've come to refer to in my own personal history as the "Baptism By Bodily Secretions" phase of life. After this nothing will phase you.

heidi said...

Rach,
I would have commented before, but I was stunned and didn't know what to say! Yes. Really.

But... NOW I know why you warned me... that although you like to THINK of your house as smelling like potpourri, that you're pretty sure it smells of sour milk and pee.

You poor darling. You know, until recently, one of the most terrifying casual comments anyone has made to me, about parenthood, is Collette saying (more than once), that in bed, at night, right before falling asleep, is her main time to THINK. ACK! Kay's right. Makes me really baby... I can't even SAY the other word right now.

I have no words of encouragement. I'd thank you for sharing... But...

Rachel said...

Baptism by Bodily Secretions! LOL! I think I just found a new name for my blog!

Thora said...

At times like this, my huband likes to say that he feels up to his eyebrows in Poop. I knew that motherhood would be demanding - I just never realized how much bodily fluid would be involved.

Also, I don't think I commented before on the Liam saga - I'm grateful to know at the outset that he's doing well now, because in the middle....I'm grateful we have so much modern technology to help with medical things.

(On another note, how do you know Tianna? She was Avram's schoolmate at BYU. Are you from the same place in Idaho? This is all very "small world" )

Rachel said...

Thora,
I went to BYU-I with Tianna for a summer thingy bob between our Junior and Senior years of HS. She's a delight, no?

Natalya said...

Dear Rachel,
I laughed and cried through this whole post, out of both admiration for your accuracy of description, and sympathy. Sometimes when I have just turned from poop to spill to ludicrous mess to more poop I imagine describing my day to my husband. HE could say, "I fixed a fence and installed a gate and dug a hole." He has semi-permanent monuments of his efforts. My daily monuments? My monument is the fact that there is NOT poop on the floor, that the couch is NOT smeared with banana, that the diapers are NOT scattered everywhere in the livingroom, etc. You can't see my monuments.

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