By Hannah Shreim
Once upon a time, in a Home Depot parking lot, my nephew had a poo. No, this was not a ordinary poo. This was a poo of nightmares. The yucky, sticky, awful color, way up the back poo. He was 4 months old at the time and this was mine, and my sisters first experience with a nightmare poo like this one. As we gathered the appropriate equipment to handled the nightmare poo, the crying begun. And you guessed it, this was not the sad whimpering sound of a poor child covered in a normal poo. This was a howl, a I’m not ok, scream your bloody head off kind of cry. The kind of cry that makes people stare, and judge and the situation much worse. And this is where the other crying started. Not from my nephew, from my hard as nails big sister. She’s was a new, first time mom sitting in the trunk of her car, with a screaming poo covered baby. This is where the laughing started. Not from my sister or my nephew. But from me. The single, care free, in charge of nothing human. This is where my heroism kicked in and took hold of my poo covered nephew to finish the job and offer useless information to my sister about not caring what others people think, and how you need to get more rest. And how the situation wasn’t that bad, and how we were grown woman who could handle anything. And of course that crying was stupid.
Let’s fast forward about five year’s shall we. I am a new mom with the worlds best baby that never does anything quite like the nightmare poo long forgotten. Until that one faithful day where I am alone, in a parking lot and I smell a smell. A long forgotten smell of the yucky, sticky, awful color, way up the back poo. And I panic. And think to just race home and handle it there. That’s when the crying started. Not the sad whimper of a poor child covered in normal poo makes, nope, this was the howl, I’m not ok, makes people stare and judge, scream your bloody head off kind of cry. As the loving memory of the previous nightmare poo came fluttering into my head , I make my game plan. I start by promising myself I won’t cry. And begun to empty out my trunk. The stroller, had to go. The the emergency things we keep in the car that we never use, out into the wild of the parking lot they went. I find the wipes, diaper, new clothes and make my station. All the while making useless conversation to my whaling son about staying calm. I take a deep breath and finally, I grab my screaming baby and pray to any god that would hear me to make this experience a fast one. I look at my son, and the mess he was in and broke the promise I made to myself and started to cry.
With a fight we got the diaper changed and my son as clean as I could get him. While we both cried during the whole thing. I called my sister after words, still breathing hard from crying, nursing my baby in a poo covered trunk to try and calm him and offer him some comfort after our traumatizing experience. The only thing she said to me, crying is not stupid. And I laughed. And she hung up because she is a mother of two now and probably had fire to put out or a nightmare poo to clean up.
Now let me tell you what I learned. Crying is not stupid. Sometimes the only way to get threw a situation is by crying threw it. Crying doesn’t make you weak or fragile. A crying mother is a force to be reckoned with. A mother, crying while she fights a screaming baby into new cloths or threw a diaper change is probably one of the strongest people you will ever see. Another thing that I learned is that nightmare poos happen to everyone. So if you see a mother, with a poo covered baby. Offer some kind words and a shout of support. Also, we are human, and we care what others think of us. Especially about how we we care for our children. You can be the best mother in the world with the best kids in whole world. But chances are, they are going to have a tantrum in the middle of the grocery store for no reason. So please don’t be the judging person that everyone hates.
And another thing! Moms don’t get enough rest and we are sick of people telling us to rest more! We know this, and there is nothing we can do about it. We go to bed tired, and we wake up tired and we spend our day tired. Being tired is part of motherhood.
Hannah Shreim turns everyday motherhood struggles into light hearted stories that everyone can learn from. She is a new mom with an art and teaching background and a whole lot of amazing parents to look up to. Hannah enjoys observing how different types of parents handle the same situation.