On one blissful morning last week, all of the kids had slept past 7 a.m. That almost never happens, and I loved the early solitude.It was Monday morning, and I wasn’t about to upset the apple cart and wake any of these sleeping babes up, right? That was a rookie mistake, and I ended up paying dearly for my error in judgment.
By 7:30 a.m. the older two munchkins were up and at ’em, but 7:45 rolled around, and there was still no peep from my littlest man. At 8 a.m. – nothing. At 8:15 – nothing. By 8:30 I decided it was time to get Cooper up and start the day. I noticed the shift from it being a calm and peaceful morning to it just being weird that Super Coop wasn’t awake yet so it was time to fetch him. I was halfway up the stairs when it hit me. “Oh no. No. No. Please, nom...” went racing through my mind. Maybe it wasn’t what I thought it was, and maybe my nose was having an off day – that could happen. Right?
With my eyes shut I cracked the door. I hadn’t even stepped foot inside his room or dared to look, when I knew, with absolute certainty, that it was going to be bad … REALLY bad. I mustered up a bit bravery, opened my eyes and there it was. Poor baby had a massive poopy diaper blowout in bed, and it was everywhere. The sheets, his animals, the pillow, the crib, the walls, all of it got “hit,” but worst was him. It was all over him. For a nanosecond, I allowed myself to panic, I mean, where do you even begin? However, I was snapped right out of my near meltdown when I saw him reach to put his pacifier back into his mouth. I screamed “NOOOO!” and lunged for the bed.
It was a Super Mom moment as I dove straight into the mess and swatted the paci out from his hands. At that moment he went from being a happy little piglet playing in his own … ya know… to one outraged infant. Cooper loves his pacifier, a lot, and for me to so rudely smack it away from him was an unforgivably offensive act. I understood his frustration, but there was no way I was going to let him put that nasty thing back into his mouth – ever. Not only did I take it, but I also threw it away right in front of him on the way to the bath. I thought he was mad before, but after I had thrown his best friend in the trash, he got seriously twisted.
He cried his way through the bath, but once I got him clean I breathed a sigh of relief and thought, “Whew, the worst of it is over!” Then I quickly remembered the sheets, his animals, the pillow, the crib, and the walls still all had to be cleaned. It was a humbling Mom Monday to be sure, but it was also kind of hilarious. As I was cleaning, I chuckled to myself remembering “how it used to be.” Not so long ago, my main Monday frustration would have been a lack of caffeine as I was stuck in traffic on the way to work. These days I’m adding more practical hands-on skills to my repertoire - like navigating a Category 5 diaper blowout. Hmm ... can you put that on a resume?
Jordan Schupbach is a mother of three living in the Houston area. She blogs at www.lattesandliving.com - sharing the good, the bad and the frenzied.