“I’ve debated sharing this, just because it’s so embarrassing and I failed as a mother on so many different levels. But… I think it needs to be said, if only to serve as birth control for the younger generation. Fair warning… TO MUCH INFORMATION AND POOP!
Today after I picked up Sadie from school, we went to the flood wall so I could run, and they could play at the park afterwards.
After my run, I’m sitting at the picnic table, exhausted, drenched in sweat, watching my babies play, vowing to join them as soon as I rest up. At one-point Sadie goes down the slide and then walks in front of me and I see ‘wet’ shorts. I think, ‘Okay she’s peed out of her diaper, no big deal.’
I go get her to change her and the closer I get, the more clearly I smell that it’s not pee.
Still, not a big deal, what’s a poopy diaper?
Then I start to change her, and I realize it’s a poop-trophe. I’m talking on of them poops you usually see in a newborn, where it’s all up then back and down their legs and you contemplate just throwing the whole baby away.
Still… I’m not panicked… been there, done that, multiple times.
I get a diaper and wipes; the wipes feel light… I start cleaning her up and there’s only FOUR wipes. This isn’t a four-wipe kind of poop – it’s pressure washer or open fire hydrant kind of poop. So, I start looking for more wipes in the van. At this point, Sadie’s just standing there naked in an empty (thank God) parking lot, with poop up her back, in her hair, down her legs to her knees, even on her shoes, because taking her clothes off did not go as smoothly as one would hope.
I turn my back, frantically searching for more wipes. Nothing. I had just cleaned out the van yesterday. I got out any and all extraneous wipes, clothes, everything. I KNOW there’s no other wipes in there, but I search anyway. Then I hear it…. that painful SQQQUUUEEEAAAKKKKK of skin getting stuck to a plastic slide on the way down. I look up and yes, of course, it’s Sadie. She’s going down the slide, butt naked, COVERED in poop, leaving a long skid mark of poop allllllll the way down on her way.
At this point I just give up. I chase down Layla, wrap Sadie in a blanket and buckle them in their car seats and leave.
But wait, it gets better…
Leaving the poop there was not an option. First of all, it’s poop, gross and needs cleaned up regardless. But second of all, Arionna is home deathly ill with a stomach virus (I think). What if Sadie’s getting that virus? There’s no way I’m leaving my kids slug trail of possibly contagious feces on this playground so some other kid can get sick. We live maybe 5 minutes from the park, so I rush home, grab Clorox wipes that are conveniently on my porch because I had used them yesterday to clean a few parts on the van, then rush back.
We get there and there’s still no one else at the park. I park on the gravel right by the slide, leave the van running with the A/C on, leave the babies buckled in, and go to clean the slide and rails.
Easier said than done.
I got the bottom and the main top easily, but the middle of the slide I could not reach. I tried to climb up it but was unsuccessful. Keep in mind I’m REALLY out of shape and just ran a mile and a half. It’s 90 degrees, I’m WEAK, uncoordinated. To say I was struggling would an understatement.
Eventually, I get the brilliant idea to go down the slide and wipe as I go. Instead of risking a head injury I decide to go down feet first, on my stomach, holding on to the side to slow myself down with one hand and wiping with the other. This was not easy. I did not look elegant or attractive, I’m sure. I’m 254-lbs of sweaty fat flopping around this children’s slide like a fish out of water.
When I get to the bottom, I’m finally satisfied with my cleaning job. I turn and see a car parked, a family, all of them with glaring at me…. I don’t know how long they were there. I never heard them pull up. They never got out of the car. I genuinely think that were afraid of me, after all, I was an overweight seemingly childless adult, on children’s playground equipment.
Anyway, now dying of embarrassment, I rush to throw away my wipes and get in the van. I look down and realize there’s poop all over my shirt. Of course, I went down feet first. My clothes got the bulk of the poop.
I am NOT getting that on my seat belt.
I am not getting a ticket or dying from not wearing a seat belt, no matter how short the drive.
So, I do the only thing I can think to do… I drive home in my bra.
That family is scarred for life I’m sure!
We’re all home now; we’re alive, showered, traumatized, but okay.
Moral of the story? Always bring extra wipes, extra clothes, extra blankets, extra everything! Don’t clean out your car, ever. And if you aren’t mentally, emotionally, and physically prepared to roll around in another person’s feces… use a condom.
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