So, apparently, EVERYONE is more compassionate than I am. After my last blog post I got phone calls, texts, comments on Facebook, etc. all from people concerned for my general welfare. For all those that were/are concerned I AM FINE. Seriously, as I lay there on the floor willing myself to get up I was thinking I will have to write about this on the blog - this is hilarious that I just collapsed and cannot get up.
This humor is what gets me through motherhood, I think. Well, I know that it does. Like a few weeks ago when Francesca woke up and proceeded to throw up everywhere. Another load of laundry and another day of not going anywhere, plans canceled......AGAIN. I get Fia off to school and I go back to see where Francesca is - in her room, with poop about 6 inches from her body. It had squirted out with such force that it wasn't touching the floor around her body. Of course, it did manage to get ALL OVER her actual body - that was fun.
I love playing the game of how to get poopy clothes off a poopy child without getting poop in the child's long blond hair.
I lost the game that day.
I texted a picture of it to my brother. He said he almost vomited and he wasn't even there. I won't lie, one of the biggest reasons I can't wait for Matt to have kids is I want to see how many times the first year or so he vomits while changing a poopy diaper, getting vomited on or any other disgusting thing that happens when you have children.
So I threw Francesca in the tub after using almost an ENTIRE CONTAINER OF WIPES to clean her off. I threw Nico in too for good measure because, really, bath time is a rare and precious thing around here and I might as bath two kiddies with one bath :)
Then it's 9:30 and they are on the couch in towels and our plans are done for the day and I was a bit flustered by all the poop and vomit and was getting to that slightly hysterical place that stay at home moms get to when they are tired and have inhaled the fumes of too many bodily fluids not their own. So I decided it's time for an interpretative dance because, well, that's what EVERYONE does when they have a bit of downtime with the kiddies, right?
I titled it, "The Journey of Francesca's Poop" and I narrated it as well. It was quite moving (pun intended).
I started as the food coming down through Francesca, there was a great deal of spinning and spiraling downward. It continue through the stomach and intenstine, where I threw my body around the room in all manner of positions, until the great finish when I hunched down on the ground and rocketed up and out while making the appropriate noises.
The kids thought I was hysterical. Frankly, I was laughing quite a bit, too. Completely inappropriate for so many reasons. But after a morning of poop and vomit I wasn't complaining, I wasn't whining, I was laughing and I figure that has to count for something.
Sometimes I think I may have trouble adjusting to my life after kids, the life I will lead after all are in school and I am required to have some kind of life outside my house. Not working but being more of a presence at their school or within our church life. I wonder if I will be able to conduct myself in the proper manner when I don't have my interpretative dance outlet.
I mentioned once to friends that sometimes when I was out with the kids I would forget I was in public once again and I would feel as comfortable as I did at home. You know, when you are really comfortable and suddenly there is a backdoor breeze passing thru the aisle at the grocery store. I said I always blamed it on the nonverbal kid at the time.
I thought this was common practice.
Ashley was a bit horrified. Well, as horrified as she gets when I say anything like this to her. Ashley, my classy friend who is used to her nonclassy friend by now. Ashley who also understands that classy does NOT equal gassy. In fact, this conversation confirmed for me that what I always suspected was indeed true. I am sure that Ashley NEVER has a problem with backdoor breezes passing through her home or local grocery store. Because, again people, CLASSY does NOT equal GASSY.
By the way, I had to google synonyms for fart because I was too embarrassed to write that word in conjunction with my name. I try to have some standards even on this blog that as I am writing this I am remembering that Sofia's teacher - the revered Mrs. B - told me she reads now. Hmmmm......well, anyway, I googled that word and urban dictionary has an ENTIRE LONG list of synonyms. I rather like backdoor breeze, don't you? It sounds refreshing and almost dainty, don't you think? Like, ahhhhh, what a refreshing backdoor breeze I feel coming through....................
Ok. Seriously. I am done.
I am going to go grow up now.