Friday, March 12, 2010

Shit Storm

As I mentioned a few days ago, Sec has been ending up in bed with us somewhere around the 3am mark every night. It’s dismaying but neither David or I have the energy to break her of the habit, especially since it will involve lots of screaming which his sure to wake Primo and two awake children at 3am is much, much worse than one. So we’ve been grinning and bearing it for the time being but last night taking Sec into bed resulted in an actual, literal shit storm.

David tossed the kid next to me in his usual fashion and Sec moaned, “Diaper!” in her usual fashion. Though she’s pretty well potty trained during the day, the kid pisses like a racehorse in her diaper at night. By the middle of the night, that diaper weighs about 20 pounds. So I’ve taken to ripping it off of her when she rolls into bed with us in the wee hours. Since it is pitch dark, I do this without looking, usually with one hand, in a remarkably ungraceful, inefficient way that allows as much of me to remain on my pillow as possible. So last night, Sec says Diaper, and I roll over, undo the tabs and pull the diaper off of her without even pulling down her pants. It is only then that I smell it – that old, familiar, revolting stench that I, a mother of two children two years apart, know so very well. At first, I am in denial. Maybe I have to take the garbage out. Maybe its coming from outside? But the diaper is still in my hand and it is clear the foul pestilential stink is coming from the diaper.

“Oh shit,” I say, “SHIT!”

“Jesus Christ Nicole!” David shouts, sitting up in bed, “What did you do?”

“I just took the diaper off her like I always do,” I stammered.

“Didn’t you CHECK first to make sure it wasn’t full of SHIT???”

The great thing about me and David is we do really well under pressure.

“There’s shit EVERYWHERE!” he shouts.

“No shit,” I say, “Its all over MY HAND!!!!”

Lights on.
Shit all over our bed.
I scour my hands like Lady Macbeth.
Wet wipes out.
Sec cleaned.
Sec put on the floor, thankfully, still asleep, clearly relieved after her midnight evacuation.
Bed stripped.
Clean sheets located
Bed made.
Back in bed.

I use Lamaze breathing to avoid passing out from the lingering stink.

And then my daughter, that ornery little sucker who wouldn’t give you a kiss if your life depended on it, pulls my head over to hers and gives me the most magical, enchanting tiny little toddler kiss on my cheek. I positively swoon.

Just when you’re at your breaking point, they throw you a bone. And thank God for that.