Monday, October 11, 2010

WARNING --- TMI alert

Ok folks, this post involves a story that includes details of bowel habits. Do not read if you are easily disgusted or have a weak stomach. Or just don't feel like reading about someone else's day in the bathroom. I am so embarrassed to tell this story, but it's one that I will share with Peyton in a few years.

As a mother of two little ones, I have discovered that everything happens at the same time. The girls coordinate everything to occur simultaneously with such precision that it scares me. This wouldn't bother me as much since I know they are little and have many needs. But the thing is, they coordinate these needs at the most inopportune time for me. They both have massive poopy diapers that require immediate changing at the exact same time. They both want to be fed at the exact same time. They both want to be held at the exact same time. They both want to talk to me about their day at the same time. Except for naps of course. No, no, no. Not naps. No way would they think about taking naps at the same time.

You get the point. Sometimes having two under two is just not convenient for me.

Well, the other day something happened that just further proved my point. Campbell was sleeping peacefully, Peyton was playing by herself in the playroom, and I was laying down for a split second (a rare moment in this house). All of a sudden my stomach started rumbling. That questionable meal I had consumed earlier was no longer questionable. It became a fact that I so should not have eaten it. For a few minutes, I was sitting there wondering if my stomach would be able to fight off the meal or if I was going to be stuck in the bathroom for awhile. Of course at that very moment that my stomach decided that it was time to go the bathroom, Campbell woke up screaming, demanding to be fed. I quickly dashed into the kitchen, made a bottle so fast that it went down in the books as THE quickest bottle ever made, ran back into my bedroom, changed Campbell's diaper since she had decided to have a major poopy at that very minute, yelled out to Peyton to watch her movie for a little while, and I went into the bathroom with Campbell. (YOU MAY WANT TO STOP READING HERE IF YOU AREN'T ALREADY SO GROSSED OUT). So there I was, multitasking while sitting on the toilet - feeding Campbell and giving my stomach a break - when Peyton decides to join in the awesome party in mommy's bathroom. My stomach was in some serious knots, I was in some serious pain and not in a good mood, Campbell was eating and spitting up at the same time, and Peyton had a huge wad of toilet paper in her hands and was asking me repeatedly "Momma, I wipe? Momma, I wipe??" as she tried to reach around me and wipe my you-know-what. She was trying to be such a big helper, trying to help her mommy wipe her peaches ("peaches" are used instead of "butt" around here). I couldn't quite explain in nice terms that honey, this is NOT a good time to be a big helper. I finally shooed her off with a promise of a popsicle later, Campbell finally settled down and finished her bottle in peace, and my stomach finally was rid of all nasty food that I will never eat again.

That, folks, is how my life with two is like nowadays.

No comments: