puke

i don't know if you have ever been vomited on by another human being, but i can tell you it's a very humbling experience. i don't care if it's a friend, a family member, a person at a frat party who had too much jungle juice...or your first born, it sucks any way you slice it. if you happen to add that your first born was also simultaneously taking a dump while doing so...it is even more fun. (and by fun i mean totally not fun.) last night i was folding laundry downstairs when i heard ella crying at the top of the steps. my husband does bath duty most nights, so i waited a minute before i ran toward the screams. when it didn't stop, i yelled, "WHAT IS SHE CRYING ABOUT!?" butch yelled back, "i think she's CONSTIPATED...she was hiding in her princess tent and told me that she was trying to poop, but said IT wouldn't come OUT!" (excuse me, but when did the princess tent become a porta potty!?) he also added that he (conveniently) had carrie in the tub and couldn't do anything to help her in that moment. even though i wanted to run out the front door like my hair was on fire, i reluctantly ran up the steps towards the screams instead. typically, a normal person wants to run away from screaming...when you are a mother, you are constantly running towards it. (things they don't tell you in the parenting books #234.)

anyway, when i reached the top of the steps ella was standing there holding her head down, crying, and looking quite pitiful. i said over the screams, "what is going on here?" she looked up at me and whined, "i went in the pwincess tent for pwivacy...but my poop will not come OUUUUUTTTT." aside from wanting to punch myself in the face in that moment, i felt really bad for her. being constipated sucks. i bet it sucks even more when you still take shits in your pants. can you imagine being all bound up and trying to drop one in your diaper? (brutal.) so i said, "listen, i know you are kinda scared of the potty, but i think it would help your poop come out if you sat on there instead. i'll hold you up. okay?" (toddler negotiations 101...talking her down from the ledge.) she initially lost her shit on me and told me she was, "NOT going to go on THAT POTTY WITE NOW!!!!" but then i think the painful impending bowel movement got the best of her...cause she gave in. now let me paint a picture here...i was still sweaty and in my gym clothes and we had just finished dinner. butch passed me in the hallway with a naked one year old, wrapped in a towel and fresh out of the tub. ella and i walked into the bathroom and she was whimpering. i put her up on the potty and kinda bear hugged her, held her up, and told her it would be okay.

despite my efforts, she went into full panic mode about the poop not coming out and she lost. her. mind. she was screaming directly in my right ear and i was trying to soothe her the best i could. again, she was sitting on the TOILET. (i was hugging my toddler on the toilet.) i could see the turd start to emerge and then suddenly (and violently)...she vomited all over my shoulder and down my shirt. i guess the force of the vomit unleashed the log, but she continued to scream. she then realized what she did and yelled, "OH MOMMY! I SPIT UP ALL OVER YOU!" spit up? no. this is not spit up. spit up is what nursing newborns do. you are a person that walks around now and drinks more than milk. what you did was PUKE the entire contents of your STOMACH on (and down) my shirt. so don't tell me this is spit up, sister...cause it's not. ok, i didn't say all that, instead i told her it was alright and i started pulling chunks out of my sports bra. (so sick.) she was still pretty worked up and then decided to also throw up her dessert. this time, she leaned forward and puked through her legs and made it directly into the toilet. hell, i wish i perfected that move in college. no need to stand up and turn around when you get the spins. (well done, ella!) so in the wake of all this, carrie walked in wearing her jammies and was just looking at us, just taking it all in...she was reminiscent of a crime scene investigator. (just missing the notepad.) and then in walked butch. i shit you not, if i had a photo of his face when he first saw us, i'd be a very rich woman. (woulda been a priceless picture.)

there i was on my knees in front of my daughter, covered in vomit that was not my own...ella was on the commode also covered  in puke, with a ginormous floater in the toilet. butch turned into the bathroom, looked at us and said, "what is happening in here? seriously, what the hell is happening." he looked absolutely bewildered and really didn't know what to do. i said, "can you please get me a towel or something?!" he got two towels, threw them at me, and then retreated into the bedroom. i took off my shirt and stripped off ella's, just as she looked up to me and said (through tears), "mommy, aren't you so pwoud of me??" (am i what?) i said, "proud of you for what, honey?" she replied, "for POOPIN' ON THE POTTY, MOMMY?!" (oh, that. sorry i missed the moment because of the MASSIVE AMOUNT OF PUKE!) i took a deep breath, "yes, of course i am! your first time pooping on the potty!" i added that not every time she poops on the potty is going to hurt that bad. she went on, "yeah, my poop is sometimes soft, but this time it was weally, weally hard." (talking about poop textures with my three year old who is now in the tub. awesome.) i felt like we needed to discuss this, though, cause i didn't want her to be even more traumatized every time she has to poop on the potty. (she probably will be, anyways.) so after a bath and fresh jammies, i took her downstairs...she was still kinda in shock and wanted to be held. during her show, carrie removed her own pants and diaper and was walking around bottomless. (par for the course.)

ironically, earlier that night while at the gym...a girl (who i thought was around my age) hopped on a treadmill that was in the row in front of me. upon first glance, i thought her shirt said, "senior week 2000!" i thought to myself, "woah! that's when i went to senior week. she's as old as me!" my bubble was quickly burst though when i realized it didn't say "2000" it said "2010" (i was only 10 years off.) this girl was in second grade when i graduated. (awesome.) later i also heard two young chickadees in the locker room talking about how they are "graduating in 3 months!" and how "great it's going to be!" i wanted to grab them by their blonde and brunette hair and bash their heads together and say, "you have NO IDEA what you are in store for, sisters!" i only wish i had that photo to show them of butch walking around the corner into the bathroom and seeing me in the middle of the constipation chaos. i bet that would've made them change their tune. (he looked HORRIFIED.) so after an, "oh my god i'm old as shit" moment at the gym...i came home to an "oh my god my toddler can't shit" moment at home. motherhood includes a plethora of wonderful moments, but if hard poops and pulling chunks of vomit out of your sports bra isn't for you...you may want to reconsider. i mentioned in a previous post that potty training was going to kill me. now that we have added constipation and vomit into the mix...i'm about half way there. if someone sees me fleeing out of my front door like my hair is on fire...please kindly stop me and hand me a solo cup of jungle juice. i promise not to puke on you.