Browsing Tag

crap

Wholly Crap!

August 11, 2009

Yes, it looks way cuter than it actually is.

So, my kids have developed a new game, which is to see who can produce more poop in a day. It used to be that Kirsten was hands down the champion in that division, since breastmilk makes her defecate 6-7 times a day, which she tries to reserve for the times her diaper is off. Occasionally, when she is all out of poop, she can produce foam from her ass. Oh, trust me, I didn’ t think it was possible either, until I SAW IT WITH MY OWN EYES.

Ever since Tru started taking the ancient Chinese herbs, his bowel movements have also been miraculously multiplied. I’m attributing it to the detoxification process. Instead of the usual package he delivers once a day, it has recently gone up to a record 6 packs of poop. All I can say is that I hope this detox is doing some good to his system. Or else I’d be cleaning extra crap for no reason at all.

So the other day, in the midst of the mayhem that goes on in my house, Tru somehow managed to smear his crap all over the back of his romper. It also had to happen when I was momentarily otherwise engaged with feeding the little one so I could only watch in horror as he made patches of crap stains all over my living room with his ass. See, I’ve heard of finger painting but this is a real first. I was all like “Tru, Nooooooooooooo, don’t sit down!”, but of course the shock from my outburst had him landing flat on his ass. He then got up, crawled a few steps and sat right back down again. Rinse and repeat. Until my living room was covered with a layer of ass-shaped crap designs. If you ask me, it trumps his last masterpiece.

Not to be outdone, Kirsten had her own version of crap-smearing. After numerous accidents on my bed, I’ve shifted her nappy changing area to the couch in the living room. The good thing is that I don’t have to keep changing bedsheets but the flip side is that my faux leather sofa is now infested with all kinds of bodily fluids. From experience, I’ve learnt to anticipate the jet stream of poop that flies out during her nappy changes, but after 5 minutes and nothing, I thought it wasn’t going to happen. But just as I swiped the diaper from under her bum, lo and behold, a fresh stream of mustard mash gushed out and almost hit me in the eye. It’s only thanks to my ninja reflexes that I’m still alive at this moment. Inevitably, the shit hit the fan (except that it was the floor, stool, remote control, and some parts of my body).

I suppose it could have been worse. Tru could have been around when it happened (he was sound asleep) and he would have had a field day grabbing it and smearing it liberally on multiple surfaces. For that, I am eternally grateful.

I used to be terrified of cleaning crap but 2 kids in, we’re now practically best friends. Like real tight.

by Daphne

To kill a mocking bird

June 30, 2009

big bird.jpg

I know I’m going to incur the wrath of bird lovers out there, but I’m going to say it anyway. I HATE BIRDS, THEY’RE EVIL AND MEAN AND DESERVE TO BE EATEN. I suppose some birds are ok, like chickens, which are juicy and succulent and taste good fried. But most birds are evil. They’ve got sharp beaks and beady eyes (that look like they’re mocking you all the time) and flappy feathers. Worst of all, they steal food and crap all over the place.

I’ve never been particularly fond of birds, but we’ve got this mutual understanding that we’ll keep to our own territories and maintain a truce. They agree not to crap on my head and in return, I won’t poison them with arsenic and rip off their bony legs one by one. But recently, they’ve broken the treaty and now it’s time for war.

Ever since I moved in to my new place, they’ve made it a daily routine to perch their evil asses outside my kitchen window squawking away making a nuisance of themselves. Then they got bolder and started stealing leftover food. And if that wasn’t enough, they’ve been leaving little piles of poop on my stove, table and sink. Now on top of cleaning my kid’s poop, I’ve got to clean bird poop as well.

So this morning, I was cooking Tru’s lunch and this bird flew in right under my nose to try to steal his food. The shock from the sneak attack led to a muscle spasm and I ended up flicking up a whole ladle of boiling porridge right onto my arm. I think subconsciously, I was aiming it at the bird, but somehow it landed on my hand and cooked it, so now it’s all red and swollen.

The bird must have thought it was hilarious, because after that, it was sitting outside my window squawking its head off.

Like I said, I hate birds. They deserve to die. I’ve tried putting stuff at the window to scare them away but they’re way to smart for that. I’ve also set booby traps like poisoned food to kill them, but so far, it’s not working. And it’s driving me insane.

Seriously, if you know of a way to get rid of the birds, do me a favor and let me know. I promise I’ll make it quick and painless and I’ll also try not to relish every moment of it.

by Daphne

kids inc

Strike 3, you’re out!

May 26, 2009

Tru had a bad case of the runs all of yesterday. Two packs of poop a day is standard fare for him (a huge one after his morning milk feed and a mid-sized one during, yes DURING his lunch) considering how much food and non-food items go into his system.

But yesterday, he gave mama 4 packs of funky poop to spice up my otherwise boring Monday.

I put him down for his afternoon nap after getting him all fed and bathed (2 packs of poop – check) and as usual, he was performing his daily battle cry in his cot for a good 20 minutes. I didn’t think much of it, having drowned out his shrieks as ambient sound, but this time, the shrieks got increasingly loud until until it started sounding like a siren.

When I went in to check on him, I honestly didn’t know whether to laugh or bawl. The little guy got his thighs stuck between the poles of his wooden cot and his legs were sticking out, flailing wildly. (note: he’s been eating TOO MUCH FOOD!) And thanks to his incessant wriggling, his diaper had gotten loose so the crap was smeared all over his mattress and there he was, looking all helpless sitting in a pile of poop.

It probably sounds hilarious now, but right there, I felt like I had utterly failed as a mother. I would have taken a photo, but it would break your heart, and I might get hauled off to prison for child abuse.

So I cleaned him up and hugged him real tight and apologized like a million times. I felt so bad that his poor thighs were all red and sore, but he started giggling and held my face, which made me feel even worse cos he was such a sweetie-pie for consoling me after I left him stranded.

Strike 1 for mommy.

Then in the evening, I was at the library tutoring my student so Superdad had to take over the night duties. 10 minutes in, I got a call saying that Tru was SCREAMING uncontrollably, and he refused to drink his milk (IMPOSSIBLE) and could not be pacified at all. Apparently Superdad lost some of his powers and also his sanity, and my two boys were in a frenzy of panic together.

Great, a mother’s worst nightmare.

I wrapped up my tutoring session and flew back as fast as I could, beating 3 red lights on the way back (I’m a totally safe and law-abiding driver, serious).

Anyway, back home, Tru was alternating between kneeling down and squatting on the bed wailing so Superdad had a stroke of genius. It’s probably his ass that hurt. When he opened up his diaper, the poor boy’s bum was all red and swollen like a baboon’s bottom. Actually it was covered with brownish-green poop, so he couldn’t really tell at first, but my little trooper who has a bum of steel was screaming for dear life, so it was pretty obvious he was in real pain.

A quick wash, a generous dollop of diaper cream and a lot of hugging later, he finally fell asleep.

Strike 2 for mommy.

All in all, not the best of days.

by Daphne

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