Oh, Poop

Oh, no.  I cannot believe some parents out there! I’m not one to judge people’s parenting styles because after all it shouldn’t affect my children’s lives in any way, right? But when your child has poop and urine on his pants and he’s going around playing with other children and you are just sitting up there smiling like everything is all good and gravy in the navy, baby, that’s when I have to start questioning your intelligence!

The other day I took my kids to the park with a friend of mine and her daughter who happens to be my daughter’s newfound best friend.  There was another mother–or maybe she was a grandmother?–with a child there.  So, boom, the child was running from one end of the playground to the other as if he had endless amounts of energy.  He didn’t even stop for breath, he just kept going all the while his mom or grandmother–I’ll just call her his guardian–was literally on his tail trying to keep up with him.

I’ll have you know that this playground isn’t all that big…it’s literally just a swing set and this climbing thingy inside of a not-so-big-circle filled with…I think it’s called Wood chips?

But anyway, the guardian is over there getting a work out while me and my fellow mommy-friend were sitting there chatting it up talking about how different the south is from the north being she moved to North Carolina from Boston but was born in Brazil and I moved down from New York City.  We’re northerners still getting the feel of the south. Every once in a while the aspiring track star would come over to us, attempt to play catch with my nine month old who wouldn’t participate for obvious reasons (and yes, I did what I could to protect her fact from the big bouncy red ball–that belonged to my daughter’s friend by the way– but this kid was so confused as to why my little girl wasn’t catching the ball) and then he would be off again.

My four-year old and her best friend came and sat down with us not only with their doll babies but with these huge Batman and Superman action figures.  The girls explained to us that the toys belonged to the little boy and I thought nothing of it since neither the boy or his guardian seemed to mind.

He ran over to us again and again and then finally it hit me like a fistful of mud. An icky odor in the air.  I figured the garbage truck was nearby but why would I only smell the funk briefly then have it go away?

On one of the boys returns and departures my deaf nose (“deaf language” for strong sense of smell due to loss of one sense–in my case my hearing) zeroed in on the direction of the funk then my deaf eyes (“deaf language” for heightened sense of vision due to loss of one sense.  Think “you lose one sense your other senses become stronger”)  zeroed in on the ball at the seat of his pants.   As he kept coming and going with his guardian huffing and puffing behind him I noticed the ball at the seat of his pants kept moving south then it stopped just below his buttocks.  But what was it? And did he sit in mud? Granted earlier in the day it had rained but the sun had since came out and pretty much dried everything up so my first assumption was that he sat in mud…somewhere.

As a deaf woman I use my eyes for pretty much everything; they do the job that my ears can’t do plus the job they were meant to do so essentially I see and hear with my eyes. So, between trying to keep my eyes on my daughters, have a grown up conversation, and trying to figure out the mystery at hand, I admit it took me a little while to connect the dots.

At last I guess the guardian had her fill on exercise and came to sit with us and like magic the little boy stopped running around so much, he stayed close by, as did the odor as did the lines that would soon connect all of the dots in my head.

So let’s look at all of the clues, we have a boy, we now see wetness in the front of his pants, we have this sickening odor, “mud” smears on one thigh of his pants and now on his shirt.  The forced polite smile plus stiff body language whenever the boy would come near displayed by my fellow mommy-friend told me something was really wrong with this picture.  I couldn’t put my finger on it and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to if I could.

I disengaged myself from my adult conversation. I looked at the guardian. I looked at my mommy-friend  I looked at the boy. I looked at my oldest daughter.  I looked at my daughter’s friend. I looked at the big red bouncy ball right by my foot. I looked at my youngest daughter.

The guardian was laughing about something she was discussing with my mommy-friend, my mommy-friend was now looking like she was in an internal fight with herself, the boy had more “muddy” splotches all over his shirt and…face? My oldest was putting on her best superhero voice for Batman unaware that her mother was finally putting her Criminal Justice Degree in use to be a detective,her friend played along with her, my youngest seemed to be uneasy about something and that smell just kept getting stronger.

And then I was like…

“Oh, Shit”

Literally.

Now, just last week I binge-watched Containment on Netflix (and absolutely LOVED IT!) so I was a little paranoid about ending up like the people in the show.  I wasn’t trying to go out like that and I wasn’t trying to have my kids go out like that.  Nah, man, I wasn’t having it.  I made eye contact with my mommy-friend and we had a little conversation using only our eyes. What an intense conversation that was.

When the guardian finally got up to leave, the boy put up a fight and went into a screaming match and hit notes that would make a bird jealous.

“Did he really poop on himself?” I asked my mommy-friend

“Yeah, and you know I’m sick and my nose is stopped up but I could still smell it” she replied, bewildered.

We sat there not believing what we had just witnessed.

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And Then This Happened.

I know I shouldn’t laugh and this really shouldn’t be funny but I have a confession to make.  Both of my children fell off the bed less than 24 hours apart from each other.  And I laughed all three times…I know! I’m a horrible mommy! And don’t worry no child was harmed in the making of this blog.

So, this is how it went down (no pun intended.)

Ever since my 9 month old discovered the joys of crawling a month ago, she’s been so obsessed with crawling to the edge of the bed and looking down.  Of course I would be right there gripping her legs and pulling her back whenever I felt she’d seen enough.  But as the month progressed, she’d only gotten faster as if conspiring to give Flash a run for his title.  I’m a mom, I make mistakes, so this particular day, me and my two little girls were watching a movie for Family Movie Night.  Unfortunately, the attention spans of a 9 month old and 4-year-old are incredibly short.  They like to move around–especially the new crawler.

My four-year old was the first to get off the bed to twirl around, toss a balloon into the air, fall down on purpose, tummy crawl, roll around, speak an unknown language and burst out laughing for no real reason.  Aside from the fact that she is indeed a little…coo-coo she was fighting her sleep with all her might.

Every little sister wants to be like her big sister, right? So, my 9 month old attempted to follow suit but under my close supervision, of course, it was kind of difficult for her. At first.  I handed her the balloon my oldest was playing with to keep her entertained while I quickly put my phone on the charger.  It literally took me all of two seconds and by the time I turned back, my little baby was on the go. She pushed the balloon off the bed and a split second later she went after it with no hesitation. It all happened so quickly, I couldn’t get to her quick enough.

She believed she could fly, but gravity told her that the lie detector determined that was a lie.

I yelped loudly, as did my 4-year old who, just a few moments before had been too wrapped up in a deep conversation with the…wall perhaps, to even notice her sister was about to take a leap.

My youngest landed on her stomach with support from her hands (are her reflexes on point, or what?) Of course the shock of falling scared her and she shed a few tears but once I placed her back on the bed she found something new to play with and all was forgotten.  She was back to her old-laughing-and-happy-self which made me laugh because I was kind of impressed that she had taken the fall so well.

My oldest, on the other hand stepped out of crazy-mode long enough to tell me it wasn’t funny and that her little sister could have hurt herself.  She re-examined her sister (because she didn’t trust that mommy examined her sister well enough–I mean who would trust their mom after laughing, right?) and when she was satisfied with her sister’s state of health, she too, started laughing and went right back to her crazy-zoo.

Now, fast forward to the next day.

Once upon a time I was a “bubble-wrap” mom but then I adopted the ideals of being a little more hands on with my children.  And by hands on I mean I let them make their mistakes and falls so they could experience in real-time what cause and effect is all about.  If you don’t tie your sneakers before taking off in a sprint, you might fall and make the ground bleed or If you run into a wall, the wall might get hurt, you know, stuff like that. So, when my four-year-old decided (without consulting with management first!) it was a good idea to attempt to do a handstand off of the bed while we were watching our morning cartoons I just sat there watching her.  Who knows? She probably would have succeeded. Did you like…taste how much sarcasm that was lathered in?

So, as she was inching off the bed, head first, hands ready to support her weight my youngest and I just sat there silently not knowing what the hell this girl was up to.  I didn’t want to startle her so I opted not to say a word, I just watched. And then it happened.

She supported her weight for all of a .05 seconds then her body went to the right and landed with a thud.  Think of  the second and third phase of doing a cartwheel. That was her.  She popped up and immediately said “WHOA! I’m okay!”

She and I both ended up in a fit of laughter, I promise you I couldn’t breathe but when we finally cooled down I asked her the million-dollar question, “What were you trying to accomplish?” to which she responded “I was trying to do a handstand! But…I don’t know what happened!” Her legs were not long enough for her to successfully pull off that stunt, that’s what happened! I asked her if she was hurt and she told me–through more laughter–that she was fine.

You would think one fall would have been enough for her for the day, but no.  Later on in the day after she argued her case against taking a nap, she miscalculated how close to the edge she was laying and as she was in the midst of rolling her eyes and rolling over so her back would be facing me, she rolled straight off the bed.

Oh, she was mad that mommy was right ,again, about her being sleepy but I guess it’s safe to say that my laughter is contagious because she couldn’t stay mad for long. She also couldn’t stay awake for long, either.

It’s been about a week or so, she hasn’t fallen off the bed again and she hasn’t put up any resistance during nap-time, and the icing on the cake? After all of that falling, my floor didn’t break! (I forgot to mention, but yes, we have carpet)