Now, knee deep into a bottle of wine, I have decided I will share with you the horror that was today- this afternoon, to be specific.
I've often bitched about having little boys and how disgusting they are, but today I reached a new low. And they reached a new high. Parenting is fucked up like that.
While two of my littles were being picked up, the eldest Baby C ran into our house yelling "he pooped on the trampoline!! And then he took his diaper off! And now there's POOP everywhere!" There was little doubt who 'he' was- you know him as the babiest Baby C- or as we lovingly call him 'Demon'. In case I was unsure of his identity, in walked the babiest of them all naked...except for a giant piece of poop hanging out of his behind. It was all over his leg, too, I'm not gonna lie. Anyway, the look on his face said it all:
'I COULD NOT BE MORE PROUD OF MYSELF FOR SHITTING ON THE TRAMPOLINE AND NOW YOU GOTTA CATCH ME IF YOU WANT TO CLEAN ME UP. BEST OF LUCK TO YOU!'
My kind parents made noises like 'oh, we need to go now' and 'ok...I can see you're busy' but what they meant was "Hallefuckinglujah it isn't my kid this time! Woo-hoo!' I understand their joy and I'll admit, I would feel the same way. However, because this was MY child in MY freshly cleaned house...I didn't say a lot. I just silently cleaned him up and promptly made plans for a sitter so I could go to Target, or as I like to call it 'The Mother Ship' and bit my tongue. I also thanked the me of yesterday for having the forethought to buy two bottles of wine instead of the usual one. All of this just days after I thought to myself 'I'm getting better at this motherhood thing. I'm efficient and prepared. I'm patient and kind. I got this.' Yeah, right.
Later after I returned, the babiest baby, belly full of dinner, took of his shoes as we readied for bed and said 'Mommy- I your hero.' Fuck. Yes. Yes, he is.