Category Archives: Poop

Fancy Poop

God, this year is literally the worst year ever. So much crap has happened, I can’t even keep track of it. Broken ankle, sick from Jan – March, a bunch of other horrible stuff, my car getting totalled, just the worst. THEN yesterday morning I see this huge lump on Max’s neck. Like huge though, the size of a quarter sticking out of his neck. KILL ME. I can’t even describe to you the feeling you get, I can’t. And with the way this year was going, my first thought was “of course”.

I anxiously called the doctor, he’s amazing and saw us same day, but I had to wait 7 hours for the appointment (from the time I saw the lump). Can I even describe how it was the longest 7 hours of my life?!?! Max legit played on the iPad for 7 straight hours, I couldn’t play with him, I barely fed him lunch, I just couldn’t think or do anything. I sat on my couch staring out the window for 7 hours. I tried not to get ahead of myself obviously, I’m not that panicky mom, at least not since I stopped Googling medical things when he was 4 weeks old and I diagnosed him with like 20 things he didn’t have. So I wasn’t blowing it out of proportion in my mind, but just having to wait 7 hours to hear what it could be, what tests we’d have to do, etc… just the worst. I can’t even say it was scary because it was beyond scary, it was a word I don’t even think exists.

The doctor checked it out and said everything is fine, it’s normal thankfully. Relief doesn’t even describe how I felt when I heard that. Today, I feel so lucky to have him here and healthy, and I’m so sad for anyone who’s ever had to go through anything horrible. I can’t stop looking at him and realizing how lucky I am right now.

Ok cheesy horrible post over… now for the good stuff…

Today we went to an indoor kids playground for yuppies. No seriously, you can’t get in unless your kids name is Max, Logan, Isla, or Atticus, and instead of Goldfish or Yogurt for snacks, you have to bring quinoa and kale. Everyone in there was so fancy today. No exaggeration, 5 different moms wearing blazers and fancy expensive scarves. They had their hair all done up and everything, like super fancy. Please note that I’m wearing leggings, a wrinkly sweatshirt that I yanked out of the dryer half wet, no bra, possibly no underwear, I don’t even know… and I haven’t showered yet. But good for them. Really good for them.

All the kids are playing on the slides and at the exact same time, we all smell it… it’s disgusting. Who’s child is it from? And just like dominoes, you see each mom go and smell their kids bum. It’s fucking disgusting. But they do it, and I do it, and we all do it, and shut up if you say you haven’t done it, and if you have no kids then I understand how gross this is, but you WILL do it one day, and you will enjoy it. The look of a room full of very fancy dressed business women smelling bums for poop, knowing that later this afternoon they’re probably going to pitch some fancy marketing strategy they worked all night on to an exec at a major company and have to be super professional about it, KNOWING that 2 hours prior they smelled someones bum for poo, it makes my day just that much brighter.

Moderate poop post

I love stock photos so much.

I love stock photos so much.

Yesterday I had a serious “I should go back to work” moment.  It came at 9:30 in the morning, after I had already cleaned the whole second floor of my house two times, cooked two meals, did all the dishes and laundry, got an iPad thrown at me, asked my OWN BABY for a kiss and he slapped me really fucking hard instead, pushed my face away then arched out of my arms… after this I sat in the living room playing with Mega Blocks all by myself while the boys did their thing, until I started smelling what could only be poop. There’s no mistaking it.

I’m watching another baby two days a week right now, so he was here also when I smelled the poop.  I didn’t know which one of them did it.  The problem is they were both playing together really really fucking well and quietly. So I smell poop and I look at them, and they aren’t even acknowledging that I’m around… YOU CAN’T FUCK WITH THAT.

Rule #1 of SAHM…. don’t fuck with the kids shit (literal) when they’re playing on their own all well behaved and quiet. You will regret it the whole day. I’m not even kidding. Your whole day will be ruined, because all day you’ll lament “Fuck, remember when they were quiet  and independent for the only 2 minutes of the day and you went and fucked it up?”

So I sat on the couch for a minute and debated what I was going to do, I went through several scenarios in my head. Long story short… ugh… I got down on my hands and knees, and quietly crawled behind them, super sneaky like, and I put my face into each of their bum’s to smell who it was.  And while I was at my second sniff (first sniff of the second baby), I had this massive realization “you really really really aren’t a Project Manager anymore”.   Because I mean, I still feel like I have a job. It’s a big problem, me and Brian talk about it all the time.  Sometimes I’ll drive by my old work and I’ll say “OMG it took me no time to get there today, I’m so glad we live so close to my work”. Idiot. I think it’s because I never went back after mat leave, so there was no closure? I have no idea.  BUT yeah, in that moment… that’s when I realized that I actually have no job, I’m not learning anything new, nor am I using any of my skills or experience ever again for the foreseeable future.

It was like this fast montage in my head of everyone I know at work in that moment, working, drinking, probably eating free bagels, being jovial, writing timelines, not sniffing anyone’s bum’s (unless you’re a weirdo, and I’ve worked with weirdo’s, so maybe one of them might have been doing this) and bitching about account managers with other adults, and then quick zoom out to me sniffing for poop on the ground quietly sneakily so that babies (toddlers?) don’t get interrupted.

Joke was on me, because they both pooped.

Poop post number one of never again


I don’t wanna talk about baby poop. I remember on Facebook how many mom friends talked about it and I was always like what the hell?! NO ONE CARES!!!!!!!!!!!!!   Here’s the thing, I don’t know why I care. Once you have a baby, all of the sudden you care about poop. I care about it so much too, like it’s fucking disgusting, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just… I just love, I don’t know. I’m sick, I’m a sick disgusting person and I hate myself. So, this will be hopefully my only baby poop story, because I know you don’t care, nor should you. And I have no doubt Max is gonna hate me when he’s older for writing this.

His poop rolls out of his diaper all the time, it’s THE WORST.  I made a joke once that if it ever rolled out, I wouldn’t go get it (this was before it rolled), then karma punched me in the face and it started happening all the time. I’d open his diaper and a poop would just fall out onto the ground. I didn’t know what to do. I’m not going to go get it off the floor. Like, I’m just not going to do that.  I have my limit, and that’s my limit.  You know, one time he threw up in my mouth… actually more than one time, but let’s pretend it was one time. I could handle that more than I can handle the poop rolling – and I could BARELY handle the barf in my mouth episodes. (In case you’re wondering, he barfed in my mouth because I’d nurse him, then like an idiot make him fly in the air because he loved it, so when I’m all like “AHHH YOU’RE FLYING” he’d be all like “AHH I’M BARFING IN YOUR OPEN MOUTH”.   And I’d be like “AHH OMG that’s so fucking gross, but I love the shit out of you so much that it’s almost endearing”.)

And that’s what it’s like being a mom, if I could sum it up in any possible way.

I changed topics in the middle because I really don’t want to talk about poop.