Stories of life in the suburbs with Husband and our daughter Squishy and son Button!

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Sometimes You're Covered in Poop

It was a typical Sunday morning...

Squishy alerted me to her immediate needs around 8:15 AM. I changed her and gave her a bottle and went back to sleep. Please note that Squishy knows when it's the weekend, and takes this chance to sleep in, have extra time to rest before she has to go back to the Baby Office. 

So I woke up on my own around 11 AM and Squishy was still sleeping. A rarity. Husband and I were enjoying each other's company when Squishy decided it was time the whole family was awake. 

I poked my head in  her room to say "Good Morning, Baby" and my nostrils were overwhelmed with the smell of poop.

"I smell a Stinker Butt!" I said with a grin. Squishy did not return my smile. 

It. Was. Everywhere. 

My tiny human had blown a gasket. She was covered in poop from the waist down. Since she's a baby, you should already assume there is shit all over her hands. Therefore, there is poop on her face, in her hair, and everywhere else baby's hands go. 

My immediate thought was keep the poop away from her mouth, ears, and eyes. I started reacting to the poop with shrieks of "Oh my God, it's all over you, Baby!" And things like that. I forgot that babies react to your reactions when they don't know what to do. So, she thought I was yelling at her. Squishy became a blumbering mess of cries thinking that I was mad at her for no reason. My fault. I was only reacting to the literal shit storm that was my 1 year old. 

I took off her shirt and tried to come up with a maneuver or something that could get Squishy to the bathtub without getting poop everywhere. Squishy was so upset, however, that she turned into a clingy baby monkey. She was sad, and needed Mommy cuddles. 

So I got poopy too. 

I just wrapped my arms around her and carried her bare ass naked to the bathroom for a bath. I got in the tub with her, and started scrubbing. 

I don't know exactly when this moment happened, but there was a moment...

If you think about it, how many people would you hug if they were covered in poop. Just hug them, without thinking about it. It's what they need at that moment and you dive in and deliver. What's more, would you then climb into a bathtub with them and wash them? Would you rinse and repeat until all the shit had gone? That is a special kind of love. 

Reminds me of that Bruno Mars song "Grenade". He's professing such a love that he would catch a grenade, be hit by a train, take a bullet, and get stabbed for the one he loves. 

Really Bruno? It's really nice that you care for someone that much that you would potentially take a painful, if not deadly injury for the one you love. But, Mr. Mars, I have to ask you....

Would you stew in poop? I would. 

Thursday, September 15, 2011

See Expert Mommy Go To School!

I am sitting on campus in the computer lab. I don't have class for another hour so I thought I would write a bit about school so far. It's a ton of work, but I like all four classes, my teachers are amazing, the drive isn't that bad, and it seems that my writing skills will get me by. My 4 classes are...

Introduction to Argument. 4 credits. On campus on Tuesdays 6-10 PM. Yes, we will be using the entire four hours for class every week. There is nothing I can do about this except drink coffee on Tuesdays. I adore my professor, she's actually working on a computer down the row from me right now! I'm confident that her disdain for power points and her love of wit, good writing, discussion, and movies will not waste any class time. I don't care about being in a classroom for 4 hours, as long as I'm doing something.

Introduction to Communication Research. 4 credits. On campus on Thursdays 6-10 PM. Same applies as the last class, so I guess I'll be drinking coffee on Tuesdays and Thursdays. My professor is awesome, she's also head of the department and will be my adviser. Double win for me. 

This brings me to my online courses....

Technical Communication. 4 credits. Online meetings 7-9 PM on Wednesdays. This is easier than physically driving to campus, but the designated online sessions have the potential to interfere with my other home activities. I doubt anyone else in the class has a Squishy crawling around their ankles trying to practice her typing skills while they are supposed to be drafting a mock memo or working on professional letter formats. I know just enough about computers to get by in life, nothing more. I don't think coffee can save me from that one. Moving right along...

Geology of the Oceans. 3 credits. Online. Tripped you up with that one, didn't I? Yeah, it's a Geology class. Although I am very interested in the course material (avid fan of How the Earth was Made), the lectures tend to...drag on a bit. Did I say a bit? I meant forever. Anywhere from 40-60 minutes. But don't worry, they are classy. Nothing says "class productivity" like a black and white power point slide show with a voice over reading the slides verbatim. Since I can access the lectures, slides, assignments, and quizzes anytime (almost), I think a nice glass of wine, or possibly a good drug dealer can get me through this. 

After the first week I put in a ton of effort taking notes and really preparing, hoping that I could find at least one class that didn't require that much work per week. Well, so far I have not been so lucky. I spent a collective 16 solid hours at my parents' house reading and taking notes, also doing the actual assignments and online quizzes. It helps that I am interested in all the material, and after studying for three different communications classes, my geology class has turned out to be some sort of sick reward.

Well, it's time for class. I hope I brought the right notebook...

Friday, September 9, 2011

Don't Open Until 9/9/11

Dear Squishy,

One year ago, I woke up with wet underwear. I blame you. I didn't get to have that rush of "Shit, my water just broke in the middle of the grocery store!" No, no. You were subtle. A gentle stream of amniotic fluid and peaceful contractions to let me know it was going to be a long, long day and night.

We were a great team, don't you think? No, I'm not talking about your father, little girl. He did the best he could. But really, how much can you say to a woman in labor if you're packing male genitalia? That's right. Jack Squat.

I'm talking about you and me, my love. It was 17 hours of labor for you, too. Good work, little lady. If I was yelling when you came out, sorry. But mommy's epidural wore off and it hurt a little (like Hell on my vagina). You were yelling, too. But you were supposed to be pissed, and it was probably pretty cold.

Although Mommy is usually very eloquent with words, all I could exclaim at the time was "Oh My God, it's a baby." Yeah, you sure picked a winner of a mother.

Squishy, my darling baby girl, you have survived your first year of life. How? I have no clue. When you were born, I knew as much about raising a baby as you know about the Reykjavik Symphony Orchestra. Actually, I've never asked you if you actually know anything about them, so that might be a bad simile.

Along the way, we've had many ups and downs. You're the best excuse I've ever had for leaving a place! I hope I can still milk that for a few more years. Your blissful ignorance to the ways of the world have also proven to be one of the best remedies for pure disastrous despair.

Alright, you want the truth? I honestly can't recall a lot of it. You wanna know why? Because this is my first time! I am so sleep deprived I hardly know what day it is sometimes. Thank God we have like, a zillion pictures of you so far...and over 100 little videos.

Let's give some credit where credit is due...I was pretty much your slave for the last year. You can't do anything for yourself except get into things, and most of the time you can't even get out of those things. I do all the work, and you stay alive. Without context, this would seem like a brutal situation that Oprah would investigate. But thankfully, we have that brilliant connection caused by hormones.

Little-Boo, it's been one hell of a year! Thanks for taking the ride with me. I couldn't have done it without you. And let's be honest, you'd be toast without me.

Looking forward to the rest of your years,

Friday, September 2, 2011

Learning How to Learn

As I'm sitting here on the couch contemplating my vast, complicated, and completely nuclear life as a 24 year old suburban House Manager...

Do I really want to go to school? Is it going to be worth it? Can I actually do it? Thing is, it's absolutely typical of me to come up with some theory for my life then proceed to grab the third rail with both hands. But when it comes to fruition, I get nervous, agitated, and I convince myself that it's never going to work the way it does in the movies.

It's all well and good when I'm going through the course catalog with Husband, reading class descriptions, filling out forms for financial aid, discussing how my credits are feasible for our situation.

"Yeah, one more class, just for the credits. I'm going to have to take it eventually."

Well, the premature feelings of accomplishment are slowly being taken over by those little pangs of struggle. My inner dialogue is currently debating the size of the bite I've managed to take, and if I'll be able to effectively chew and swallow it without choking or worse.

I'm learning how to learn all over again. Wasn't it I that just wrote about Sucking It Up? Maybe I should read my own post for motivation... It's all a balancing act, isn't it?

But, looking down at the tiny pink tennis shoe on the couch has just reminded me why I'm doing this in the first place. Bring it.