Oh, my poor husband and my poor friend who had to witness the MAJOR poo-tastrophe we encountered last night.
I don't know that we could have prevented the ultimate outcome, but we didn't really understand the magnitude of the situation until the poo was EVERYWHERE.
Let me back up to tell you that I offered to bring my friend dinner who just had her third baby. She was kind and said she would only allow us to feed her family if we brought our family along to enjoy it. Boy, did she underestimate the invitation she sent out to our family circus.
Things were going quite well. The BBQ pulled pork sandwiches hit the spot. The salad, chips and watermelon were perfect sides. The children were all enjoying some water fun and intermittent sliding adventures. Brownies and ice cream were an excellent topper. All that was needed was a little clean-up and we'd be on our way.
I have to admit that holding the new baby was a highlight and the children really were playing quite well (aside for the few time-outs my spirited child had to endure- we really can't go anywhere without a few of these)! The two-year-old had gone missing in the garage for a few minutes and came back announcing she had to go poop. I got a little nervous since it's not really like her to tell us she has to go, it's more about good timing ... we take her often and hope for the best.
My husband scooped her up and it was then that I noticed a little brown in her perfectly pink swimsuit. He put her down quickly and glanced at his poo-covered arm. While he was washing up, the over-tired and extreme fit began. She was inconsolable. There was flailing and screaming and all I could think about was the poop. How on earth were we going to handle this?
We took her to the grass trying to avoid making a major mess on the patio. Heck, dogs poop in lawns all the time ... right? My friend came back with a small pack of wipes and handed me a couple. I didn't have the heart to say that this was going to NO WHERE NEAR cover our issue. She realized this without me saying anything and came back with an extra large box of wipes.
The screaming and flailing hadn't stopped. My poor friend had to witness the entire event. All while her newest little man was being rocked by her husband (he was also trying to console their tired two-year-old). At one point she looked at me and gave me a half-smile, "Good times, right?"
We had to just bite the bullet. I told my husband to pull the suit off. I really just wanted to ask for some scissors. Anyone who has had to clean up poop in pants knows what I mean ... there is a reason why diapers have two buckles.
I held the arms and head and shouted at my husband to pull it off. He looked at me nervous as I gave the command again. Legs were flailing everywhere; I'm sure the whole neighborhood thought we were butchering a calf. He pulled with all his might. And then we reviewed the situation.
"I think we should have developed a better plan." That was all he could say as he glanced down at the ginormous blob of poop on his calf. I came away pretty unscathed but there was poop EVERYWHERE. After using about 39 wipes, we determined that this was not going to cut it. There was poop on her stomach, back, legs, feet; I saw a small bit on her finger and grabbed the clump with a wipe just before she stuck her fingers into her screaming mouth.
Poor baby. While she was not nearly clean enough we tried to come up with the next best plan. The kids were done with the pool for the night, but the water was freezing and our little lady was already beyond calming down. I didn't want to add any more stress to this 'new baby' home, but we needed a tubby BIG TIME.
I hauled our daughter up to the bathroom (she was still kicking and screaming). I couldn't hold her close because she was still poo-covered. We made it to the bath, did the wash down and then my friend saved our lives. I didn't have a pacifier, but asked my daughter if we should go find one (I was secretly hoping this would by me a minute or two of calmness but knew that the ultimate disaster would come when my daughter found out I didn't really have one). My friend chimed in, "Did I hear you say pacifier? I actually have a couple to spare."
Thank goodness for prepared motherly friends. She even gave my whimpering little lady two! One to suck and one to hold for comfort.
We helped clean up and apologized profusely for the drama. She totally understood and got quite a chuckle out of the whole event. She told me not to feel guilty for even a second. Guilt is something us mothers know all too well. We even had a brief conversation about how fathers have this guilt too, but just can't talk about it openly.
Our goodbye's were long and great conversation was had. Her newest little guy had fallen asleep, our poo-tastrophe was history and we were reminded of how lucky we are to have great friends. We had a moment to talk about how we are so hard on our kids- sometimes too hard. Her mother gave her some great advice that I thought about a lot today. "As a mother, it's not our job to criticize, but rather to comfort and console." Here, here.
Our kids will not go to college sucking on pacifiers or pooping in their pants. What is it that we truly want them to remember? Obviously we need to guide them and teach them manners ... but, ultimately they are who they are. They were blessed with strengths and limitations just like we are. I love friends that I can get 'real' with and know that there is no judgment. I was reminded last night that love and comfort is the best thing I can provide for my kids. Thank you dear friend for allowing me to have a few moments that would have otherwise been devastating and so embarrassing. Good friends like you leave me comfortable in my own skin and remind me to be the best mama I can ... even on my worst days:)
Enjoy the journey you have been blessed with, love the people in your life, smile :) and remember, 'It's Okay'.
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