When you’re a parent, one of the first things you quickly realise is that talking about children’s bodily functions are the norm. You have no qualms in telling anyone about the nature of your baby’s nappies or the bowel movements of your child.
Today would be no different.
My phone beeped- for once, it’s constantly on silent so as to not wake the sleeping baby. Never wake a sleeping baby.
I have no idea what tone indicates what, as my phone is always on silent. But there’s only a handful of people it could be… It’s WhatsApp… Our Ladies group- who else- It’s Sam.
‘He’s shit all over my carpet.. I’m off work sick. Give me fucking strength’
It was 9.16 AM.
Any parent who’s experienced poo on the carpet at 9.16am knows this is bad news. Any parent who’s had to parent whilst being ill knows this is bad news. Together they are bad news of epic proportions.
‘I’m trying to get someone out to clean it today for me but the soonest is this afternoon so far. I can’t face getting on my hands and knees and scrubbing.’
Sam has been off work ill. Only, when you’re a Mum you can’t actually be ill ill. You have to be ill and still do stuff because you have a child to look after. It is one of the worst case scenarios.
‘I’ve got a man coming this afternoon. I told him it was an emergency and I bet he thinks I’m a right twat now. I was like it’s an emergency my baby’s poo’ed on the carpet and I’m too poorly to clean it up.’
I’m not going to lie, I was creased at ‘I told him it’s an emergency’. An emergency!! I can actually picture Sam making this phone call… She’s actually rung someone to come and clean her carpet after her son has poo’ed on it!! Mam squad gold.
‘I’m embarrassed now but I don’t even care it needed doing anyway and it can be my birthday present to myself.’
Standard Mum justification. Because if we’re spending and it’s not something for our child, we have to justify it. (And she’s making someone come out to clean her child’s shit.)
God knows what the poor guy who took the call is expecting… I really hope he has kids- then he’ll get it. If not, Sam’s right… she’ll look like a twat. Unless he has a pet. Or is a bad drunk.
‘He’ll either think you’re majorly overreacting or that it’s a proper diarrhoea shit storm’. Pure moral support from Laura there.
Stacey’s only comment so far has been ‘Ahhh naughty’. Stacey’s baby is literally thee baby of the bunch and is our newest addition. He’s also a major sleep thief. I’m pretty sure she’s quite glad that it’s not her this time losing her shit.
‘I bet he thinks I’m a right nob.. I want to ring back and say no it’s ok I was just being hysterical I’ll do it myself… ‘
(I can actually picture the guy taking that phone call… ‘Who was that Jim? Ahh it was the hysterical poo mum. She’s changed her mind. Must be worse than we thought mate. Do you reckon she even has a baby?’)
And our conversation dissolves into our meltdowns at the kids, how we’ve screamed or shouted at them then felt guilty about it, tiredness and how bloody hard being a parent is.