by Jennifer Ryan
My fabulous day started at midnight, when my son woke screaming and asked to sleep in bed with me. I spent the rest of the night in the spare bedroom. I was awakened every hour or so by a smack to the face or a kick to the spine. At 5:15, he announced, “Momma, I get up.” Great. The next few hours were a blur of fatigue. I decided today would be a good day to drop him at the hourly childcare center, so I could get some shopping done for his upcoming birthday. I was drying my hair, when he suddenly appeared next to me. He was naked from the waist down. He was also holding a plastic mallet that came with a Whack-A-Mole style game that my sister had purchased for him during our recent visit. The mallet was covered with a dark substance. As I was pondering the substance’s origins, my son shouted, “Poop,” at the top of his lungs. Ah. Mystery solved. He said, “Come see,” as he led my by the hand downstairs. We entered the den, and he pointed to a small pile of excrement on the rug. This time, he shouted, “Surprise!” Yes, apparently my son thinks a pile of feces on the carpet is cause for my celebration. I discovered that the mallet had been used to hammer a second pile of feces into the area rug. I spent the next ten minutes cleaning the rug. Needless to say, the drop-off to his hourly childcare center couldn’t arrive fast enough.
Later, I recounted the story to my husband over the phone. He said, “Well…maybe this a good thing. Maybe this means he’s that much closer to potty training.” Listen mother f*cker, I just spent ten minutes on my hands and knees scrubbing our toddler’s shit out of the rug. Save your Buddhist, silver lining, glass-is-half-full outlook for someone else. On a related topic, this Motherhood Moment was brought to you by our corporate sponsors: Resolve Carpet Cleaner and Prozac.