Fishermen catch
Fish.
Cops catch
Robbers.
And Moms catch Poop.
Yes,
moms catch poop - it's in the fine print, and a thankless job. But it's either that, or let it fall on a clean-and-laid-out rug, just pulled from the dryer moments before.
I think I've finally and formally and
officially been introduced to motherhood.
And I feel lucky. Yes, I do! (I'm being completely honest!)
Tanner came to me yesterday (after NO ACCIDENTS, but potty breaks every 20 minutes) and said, "Mommy, I poop! Help! I need a bwoo smiley face sicker." And as I look at my distressed two-year-old, he has indeed pooped - and after eating half a box of fruit loops, it was easy to catch. Solid. Solid.
And, Solid.
So sorry for the graphics. I'll keep it down from here on out.So while he's dry-heaving and gaging next to the toilet, I'm dumping what's left in his underwear (the cutest little briefs with lizards all over them). I think I'll print myself up a little certificate. If you'd like one for being a hero-mom, let me know and I'll print one up for you, too! Seriously. You all think I'm joking! I'm not.
And just in case you were wondering, and you shouldn't, but if you should, I washed my hands thoroughly at least five times, and once with straight Clorox. I think I got it all.
I'm sure I got it all.Bring. It. On.