Rob had a conference in Costa Rica one summer, and I didn't want to miss the chance to travel with him. So we recruited two babysitters -- the kind who buy their own airline tickets and hotel room -- a/k/a "parents." Mine.
Three-month-old babies have a surprising amount of stuff. Clothing, diapers, wipes, and (in our case) formula, bottles, washing paraphernalia and drool cloths. One of the bulkiest things a baby needs is a bath. You know, one of these:
I envisioned getting on the plane with all her stuff and my stuff and a car seat and a stroller, and it was easy to decide we could do without the bath. I'd just have her take a bath with me.Our hotel room had a beautiful deck bath. Deep but not long or wide. I filled it up (it took awhile because of the volume) and got in with Tessa. We played and burbled for awhile, happy in our liquid cocoon.
If you've read some of my other posts, you might know what's coming.
Go ahead. Try to look away.
Somewhere during Rubber Ducky (perhaps the line, you make bath time lots of fun?) Tessa got that look on her face. The one where her mouth turns into a downward arc which is not a frown. The one that shows exertion.
I couldn't get us out of the bath quickly enough without putting us both at risk. I yelled for Rob, for my mom, for anyone sitting in the next room.
At best (I'm thinking) the product of her efforts will be discrete. Contained. Easily removable. Pleasegod, pleasegod, pleasegod.
But noooooooo.
Within seconds, I am sitting in a vat of poop soup. Baby Tessa has the squirts.
What could I do?
My mom comes in, and quickly assesses what has happened. She grabs Tessa from me, and I open the drain.
Mom works at the sink to clean up Tessa, who is squealing happily at the crap storm she has unleashed. I wait in the tub as the soup recedes, shivering and wanting desperately to get clean. It takes forever because of the sheer volume of water, and for the, um, is viscosity the right word?
While trying to decide the best way out of this mess, Mom and I start to laugh hysterically. Tessa gets in on our giggles as well. (I just HOPE she was laughing WITH me and not AT me. But I'm not sure.)
Mom and I share a moment of knowing. I feel like I did the day I bridged from Brownies to Girl Scouts. See, I didn't cross the bridge into Motherhood via the usual route: pregnancy, labor, childbirth. There was never a defining moment where I felt accepted into the sisterhood of mothers.
Until Costa Rica, where I most definitely earned my badge.
Suffice to say that we eventually got ourselves and the bathroom squeaky clean. (Can I just say once again how much I love my mom?)
Tessa loves this story. I wonder if she'll feel the same in a few years when she's all dressed up for prom and waiting on her tuxedo'ed date?
27 comments:
What a great defining moment!
I betcha that she loves to hear that story! Liam's favorite story is to hear about the time I took of his diaper and he peed in my eye!
Ahhhh kids and bodily functions. It doesn't get much more mothery!
At this point I can only dream of getting pooped on.
Note to weirdos of the world: That is not an invitation. I only want my own child to poop on me. Not that I want... argh, you know what I mean.
Yep, poop is definitely the badge of motherhood.
Oh no!! This reminds me of the time Claire pooped in my hair...at 3am (not that there's a better time to poop in someone's hair), and she was on the changing table at the time. Just think of the logistics of that situation! LOL!
I'm glad you could (and can) laugh about it, because only a mother (parent) truly can. Badge indeed...I'd say you earned a couple of them that night!
Kids LOVE those stories -- W can't get enough of the story where poo flies up G's arm when he's changing him...he ADORES it...snickers like an evil genius each time its brought up...
and I love your mom. That's a wonderful story.
XO
Pam
Gotta love poo in the tub stories! One time I caught B.B. trying to...uh..."sample" his big brother's poo in the tub. B.B. was just old enough to sit up alone in the tub & I had turned my back on them long enough to get the baby wash out of the shower.
No one ever told me motherhood would involve saying things like, "No, Baby! Nasty! Don't eat Bubba's poop! Spit it out! Spit it out!"
Tell it to her first boyfriend! That's the best story to tell him!
This image of "Poop Soup" will live with me Forever!! LMAO, ROFL, Thank you! Your mom is GREAT! You deserve an "Uber Mom Badge" or something for this, great story.
That is so funny, Lori. I can't wait to tell my nephew about the time he pooped on me in a restaurant and I didn't even notice until I passed him back to his mother and realized his thunder poop of a few minutes ago had escaped his diaper and soaked through his clothes and mine.
Yup, you know you love somebody when they can poop on you and you just laugh.
What a beautiful moment!
Three months is such a great age. She was certainly in on the joke and must have felt soo good once that poop was out of her.
Thanks for the story. You brought tears to my eyes.
(p.s. I am laughing AT you.)
oh, boy! Yesterday I thought you were setting us up for a tween angst moment. This is great, though. I'd say you earned a whole sash worth of badges.
I took countless baths with my son and never once did it cross my mind that such a thing might happen. I think I dodged a bullet. Whew!
LOL! Sam did something similar to me. He had been all backed up the night before and at 5 AM woke up crying, ready to eat. I fed him, went to change his diaper in the semi-gloom and SQUIRT! all over my leg. SQUIRT! all over the blankets. Sarge wandered in a little while later, as I was stripping Sam down, and inquired as to what was going on. "I'm giving your son a bath!" I grumpily replied. But secretly I was thrilled to have a "real" mom story to tell.
Oh good lord. That is so freaking gross. I have never had that happen to me (yet).
I did, however, have my darling daughter puke directly into my mouth once.
Ewwwwww! Too funny!
Oh, the joys I have to look forward to.
I am dreading the first Aqua Poo...
:)
J
Enjoyed your story again Lori!
I have yet to come across an adoptive parent who has not grown to love her adopted baby. Those I have heard of, were already a few years old when they were adopted. I figured those weren't disciplined from young.
Keep lovin!
I can see why she loves the story. It's a great inversion of power at such a tiny and helpless age.
It's terrific! And it's what kids love best.
So, now your a veteran mom.
thanks for sharing
Barbs
That is true love! I can only hope I'll be such a good mom someday.
Your mom sounds awesome! You are sooooo lucky!
oh wow, that's a great one. I'm sure her prom date will just LOVE it!
can't wait to earn my badge. especially if it's on vacation...
funny how chicklet loves the POO story too!
Oh yes, that's the story for prom night. Nothing like being initiated by poop.
Ewwwww! I guess it is just a right of passage, eh?
ooooo. Thick as soup has a whole new meaning.
LOVE your stories girl!!
This is fantastic...and she won't appreciate it for a looooong time in between 'not very long from now' and if she decides to become a mother someday.
I have one of those stories...and I do think they are laughing AT, not WITH...but what do I know? hee hee...I'll be chuckling over that for a while this weekend!
Gaah. Gaah. Gaah.
Yes, I definitely think this situation earned you that badge.
I am happy to say that I have never had this experience. And, should I ever have grandchildren, I hope to continue never having this experience.
No. Thank. You.
Yuk.
heh.
You see, this is just one of those things about motherhood you CAN'T prepare for! LOL! You wouldn't believe it before you became a mother even if someone tried to warn you!
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