Monday, February 18, 2013

Motherhood is Messy

It's true.  Motherhood is messy.  In more ways than one.

Case #1: After returning from a play date at my sister's house, I hurriedly entered our home and sat HB down on his play mat so I could use the bathroom.  He was fussy from being in the carseat for an hour drive during his normal dinner time so I started getting some toys out to distract him.  I sat down and immediately felt something "pop" on my back side and immediately I knew what it was.  A ketchup packet.  A ketchup packet you ask?  Yes.  (This story also falls into the category of "I should have known better.") I had given my son a ketchup packet leftover from one of my fast food visits the prior week - he loved it.  It was squishy and I could refrigerate it and he loved that too.  (I know, I know, this is what teething rings are made for!)  However, I took the packet away from him during our drive home and put it in my back pocket for safe keeping...that, and common sense finally got the better of me and I was going to throw it away.  My mommy brain overtook me though from that moment on and I forgot to remove the said ketchup packet from my pocket.  I forgot about it until feeling that pop in my pocket and the subsequent gooeyness oozing into my backside.

Case #2: I sat down at the dining room table, aka my desk during the day time hours, to write a quick thank you note.  My son was happily occupying himself in our kitchen which is literally about 10 feet away from where I was at.  When I left the kitchen he was pretending to be a drummer on some of my finest tupperware.  Just as I was finishing the note, the overwhelming quiet struck me so I peeked around the corner and this is what I saw.

HB helped himself to the lowest drawer in our kitchen and quickly learned how to pull one trash bag at a time off of the roll.  I of course took a picture AND a video before distracting him.  Just as I walked up to him he began pulling the foil out to unroll it too!

Case #3: HB and I were running a few errands and the time came for a diaper switch.  I laid HB down on my front seat, removed his current soggy diaper and just as I was about to place a new diaper under his cute little tush, it happened.  My son, the surprise attack peeer, let loose.  Even at nine months he still loves to pee when his diaper is off.  A little fountain of urine hit the edge of the seat, the door jam of my truck and then my knee as it found it's way to freedom in the Costco parking lot that day.

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