Awhile back I asked for people to share there stories. I decided to call these stories Neighbors in the “ParentHood” You can write your own story and sumit it to me or you can tell me the story and I will write it for you. I hope to hear from more “neighbors” in the future. A friend of my told me this story and I put it into “blog form”
A story by Gina, mother of 3, Columbus, Ohio
I have 3 kids and my 3rd has been the easiest of the 3. My first two, Gage and Emma are 7 and 6, eleven months a part to be exact. Yeah, those first few years were pretty busy to say the least. After my “Irish twin” experience, 4 years later, kid number 3 seemed like a breeze. I brag on her all the time. She amazes me at how trouble-free she is. She is easy to run errands with; I don’t have to chase her through the store. When we are home she entertains her self for hours while I finish household chores. It is nice to be able to clean the toilet without a toddler trying to play in it. So as far as those crazy toddler stories of emptying kitchen cupboards, throwing tantrums in the store, or sticking foreign object up her nose I have none. But she did put herself on the story grid today.
I had begun our regular bedtime routine and was getting ready to tuck my school age children in for the night. As I walked from my daughters room to my sons I past my youngest, Maddie, in the hall. As she passed by I could smell that her diaper was carrying an all to familiar package that wasn’t my favorite to open. I told her to go down stairs while I tucked her brother in and then I would change her in a sec. Being the compliant child she is, she simply said “ok” and headed down the stairs. As I stepped into my son’s room the smell hit me in the face like a green cloud of smoke from the cartoons. This was not your typical closed up poopy diaper smell, it was as if she left her diaper in the middle of the room. I turned on the fan, hoping it would help air the room out, but it didn’t dissipate the smell at all. By this time Gage, and I are gagging. I told him to just lie down and see if it went away after a few minutes. As I pulled the covers back a big brown spot was revealed. “Ugh, what is that!” I said “Oh my gosh is that poop!? Eeeeww, Gage smell it.” I instructed. (Yeah, funny thing about being a mom, you can tell them to do stuff like that and they don’t know any better.) Gage went in for the “sniff” only to throw his head back in disgust. “Oh yeah, that is poop.” He responded as if he were a world renowned expert on the subject. “Maddie!!!” I hollered in exasperation. “Ugh gross” I said as I sent Gage to sleep in Emma’s room. As I pulled the sheets off the bed the “poop blob” smeared onto the mattress. “You have got to be kidding.” I muttered “Maddison!” I hollered down the stairs. “Did you wipe poop on Gages sheets.” I asked looking to make sense of the situation. “Yup!” she answered without any hesitation. “Why did you wipe poop on his bed!?” I asked. “ ‘Cause it was on my finger.” She said so matter-of-factly. It was as if she wondered why I even had to ask. As we are having this conversation I peered over the stair railing to find her sitting on my couch eating a heavily frosted sugar cookie. “Maddison, get off the couch with that cookie!” I hollered down the stairs. When I went down stairs I notice that the cookie plate, originally holding 3 frosted cookies now only held one, and that ONE looked as though a small animal had carefully eaten the frosting right of the top. Last I knew we didn’t own any gerbils so it had to be Maddie. And while tucking her in I found a half a cookie in her bed. This half cookie also looked like a gerbil ate the frosting. I wasn’t sure if the other half of the cookie had made it to Maddies belly or if it was sticking to her bed sheets or a wall some where else, but I was ready for bed myself. Between the poop finger painting and the frosting trail through the house I had enough for one day.
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