First thing this morning, Eva did a ginormous poo.
Before you start getting worried, newcomers, I’d best explain that Eva is my 18 month old daughter rather than, say, a grandma with scatological tendencies, or an elephant with a squiffy stomach. And, as every new(ish) mother knows, Poo stories are the meat and drink of Mothering.
Okay, bad metaphor choice, there. But, the point is I have to talk about it because it was massive. Massive, like, the poor kid really had to work to deliver it. Massive, like, I nearly took a photo of it gracing the potty. Massive, like, I nearly invited the neighbours round to take a photo, too.
Meanwhile, I’d been perusing the Daily Prompt. ‘Unfinished‘, huh? Sounded intriguing, but with Kid Stuff to do it would soon slip my mind as usual, so I could probably add yet another missed blogging opportunity to the ever-growing list of Fails. Eva and I played and had lunch, I posted a recipe (that’s a generous word, to be honest, what I really posted was instructions for microwaving rice!) and I thought no more about it.
Then, to my surprise, Eva started showing ‘imminent delivery’ signs again during dinner. Following this, the second number two of the day, I let her bottom stay out for air and turned my attention to ‘Him Indoors’ (who had just arrived home from Outdoors, confusingly). Eva barrelled in for a cuddle, and she capered around happily while we discussed The Massive Poop and the surprise Follow-Up Nugget, as parents are wont to do: ‘What has she been eating?’ ‘Where does she keep it all?’ You get the idea. Proper Gillian McKeith stuff.
Around the time I was asking Him Indoors just how the hell blogging is supposed to work (my most heartfelt post on kids growing up too quickly is trailing waaaay behind that ‘microwaving rice‘ post for Likes. Go figure.), I suddenly noticed an ominous stillness from Eva and glanced down. There, shining smugly on the bedroom floor as if to say, ‘You thought that other pretender was big, Honey? Get a load of me!‘ was another huge crap. Then Himself spotted another. And another! Parents develop ninja-fast responses to Shitty situations, so in under half a second, I’d scooped Eva up and scooted the potty under her… but it was half a second too slow. Or should I say perfect timing, if what I’d wanted was a potty base smeared with shit, plus a big clod of it on each of her socks.
Sheesh. And the annoying thing is, this whole thing was a total Rookie Mistake. Any parent can tell you that one nugget might preempt a shitstorm, that you don’t just turn away immediately and launch a diatribe about what attracts Likes on WordPress. Never assume a child is finished after one small poop. No, really. Not even if they’ve crapped out the equivalent of a stable muck-heap just two hours previously. The Bowels of The Young are a mystery to be treated with respect and caution. And nose-plugs.
So now I’m up to my arms in baby wipes, antiseptic spray and other ‘fallout’ from Eva’s unfinished business. But even as I’m mopping diligently away, a slow smile spreads across my face.
For once in my chaotic, potty-grabbing, child-scooping, shite-smeared life ….I can actually respond to the Daily Prompt.