literally a crappy post – Mother, Inc

Love is

November 23, 2009

I dare say, very few things gross me out as a mom. Not after I’ve been vomited, peed and pooped on with poop of various consistencies. I’ve had my son draw a mural on the floor with his own crap. One time, a stray piece of poop was found under the sofa, and by the time we found it, it looked like it was alive because it was buzzing with flies. Don’t ask.

Suffice to say, my tolerance for all things gross is legendary. For example, I can scrape crap off his diaper with my bare hands without flinching. After a while, you think that you’ve seen it all but the thing with kids, they are a lot more creative than you give them credit for.

Last week, baby Kirsten has raised the grossness stakes and it is the best one yet.

So usually, I like to sit her on my chest while I’m lying down on the bed and sing to her. It’s one of our favorite daily activities. Sitting on momma’s chest and listening to me belt out Jason Mraz. She’ll put her face real close to mine and gaze into my eyes, which is awfully sweet and very good for bonding time.

Except that this time, I must have been jiggling her too much and right in the middle of my I’m Yours rendition, she regurgitated and threw up right INTO MY MOUTH and all over the rest of my face. (I swear some went into my eye) On retrospect, it was like I was asking for it because 1. gravity works against me by pulling the stream of vomit downwards towards my face, 2. my heartfelt number requires me to open my mouth real wide and 3. with her sitting on my chest, there is absolutely nowhere to run without flinging her off me.

These are moments in life where things happen very fast but when you are at the receiving end, your mind processes it in slow motion and there was a split second where I was thinking “I’m pretty sure baby girl is about to vomit into my mouth and I should do something about it. I think I should close my mouth. But what if it hits me in the eye? Does that mean I’m going to go blind? Maybe I should catch it with my mouth so that it doesn’t blind me. Oh crap.” Yes, my brain processes all that information in a split second.

Now that I think about it, I should have gone with closing both my mouth but my ninja reflexes failed me when I needed them most and I got thrown up on good and proper.

The silver lining is that I learnt something new from this and I’ll share it with you so you don’t have to learn it the hard way.

Love is having someone vomit into your mouth and not freaking out because you don’t want to scare her, so you take a moment to put her down gingerly, wipe the puke from your eyes and proceed to throw up the entire contents of your lunch.

Also, when somebody is about to vomit on your face, close both your eyes and your mouth.

by Daphne

Wholly Crap!

August 11, 2009

Yes, it looks way cuter than it actually is.

So, my kids have developed a new game, which is to see who can produce more poop in a day. It used to be that Kirsten was hands down the champion in that division, since breastmilk makes her defecate 6-7 times a day, which she tries to reserve for the times her diaper is off. Occasionally, when she is all out of poop, she can produce foam from her ass. Oh, trust me, I didn’ t think it was possible either, until I SAW IT WITH MY OWN EYES.

Ever since Tru started taking the ancient Chinese herbs, his bowel movements have also been miraculously multiplied. I’m attributing it to the detoxification process. Instead of the usual package he delivers once a day, it has recently gone up to a record 6 packs of poop. All I can say is that I hope this detox is doing some good to his system. Or else I’d be cleaning extra crap for no reason at all.

So the other day, in the midst of the mayhem that goes on in my house, Tru somehow managed to smear his crap all over the back of his romper. It also had to happen when I was momentarily otherwise engaged with feeding the little one so I could only watch in horror as he made patches of crap stains all over my living room with his ass. See, I’ve heard of finger painting but this is a real first. I was all like “Tru, Nooooooooooooo, don’t sit down!”, but of course the shock from my outburst had him landing flat on his ass. He then got up, crawled a few steps and sat right back down again. Rinse and repeat. Until my living room was covered with a layer of ass-shaped crap designs. If you ask me, it trumps his last masterpiece.

Not to be outdone, Kirsten had her own version of crap-smearing. After numerous accidents on my bed, I’ve shifted her nappy changing area to the couch in the living room. The good thing is that I don’t have to keep changing bedsheets but the flip side is that my faux leather sofa is now infested with all kinds of bodily fluids. From experience, I’ve learnt to anticipate the jet stream of poop that flies out during her nappy changes, but after 5 minutes and nothing, I thought it wasn’t going to happen. But just as I swiped the diaper from under her bum, lo and behold, a fresh stream of mustard mash gushed out and almost hit me in the eye. It’s only thanks to my ninja reflexes that I’m still alive at this moment. Inevitably, the shit hit the fan (except that it was the floor, stool, remote control, and some parts of my body).

I suppose it could have been worse. Tru could have been around when it happened (he was sound asleep) and he would have had a field day grabbing it and smearing it liberally on multiple surfaces. For that, I am eternally grateful.

I used to be terrified of cleaning crap but 2 kids in, we’re now practically best friends. Like real tight.

by Daphne