Three Holes are Better than Two
Hmm, I won't name names but if the two others who were there at this experience have big enough balls to say anything -kudos to you. Let me set the scene. There were three adult women on a hillside. The topic came up about tampons, and let's call it 'proper changing'. A comment was made by one of the women that she hated to change them every time she had to pee. I asked her why she had to change it if she peed. Her reply was that to the tune of having to pee around them, and it's gross to leave them in. Well, I stopped in my tracks and looked at the third ADULT woman to get some assistance, only to have her nodding in agreement with the first woman. I asked the ladies, "How many holes are there down there?" Quizzically, they almost in unison answered, "Two". I gasped in disbelief! "Two? I fell to the ground in laughter. It probably wasn't a time to laugh, but a time to educate...so, I laughed then educated. To this day...it's one of my bodily function top ten stories. In person...it's a dousey!
Moral of this story: People teach your children anatomy. Children pay attention in class when you're taking sex ed, or health. Read the insert of the tampon box, there's a diagram.
Poop Blooping
Many, wait ALL of my friends have heard this story...It's actually requested from time to time. I was traveling with my two oldest children and first husband. We were in Yosemite and ready for a huge hike. In typical mother preparation for the out of doors, I wanted to make sure that everyone had used the restroom before we took off. My husband at the time took our oldest son, and I took our daughter. I don't like the thought of germs. Yes, I know they are everywhere! But, it was at my encouragement that I expressed the need to not breath during her time in the mock facade of a restroom. It was an upscale outdoor commode, in a Yosemite kinda way with real walls and sinks with freezing cold running water, soap, and the 'blue' room outhouse type of toilet, with the piles of poop, and pee in the 'hole'. Since we were starting early in the day there was no waiting, no line...How lucky. Let's just hope that hardly anyone had used it for the day. Not so lucky there, but oh well, I'll hold her above and do the hoover technique I had mastered. We went in a stall and I held her suspended above the 'hole' with verbal instructions to not touch anything, don't breath, and to let me know when she was 'all done'. This is where it gets a little hard to express the difficulty that then followed. Basically I was loosing my ability to hold her suspended for the time she was requiring. I'm sure the fear of falling in, alongside my demanding instructions to not touch anything or breathe...possibly were a bit overwhelming for a almost 5 year old who had to go poo poo. My knees were quaking ready to collapse, and sweat was dripping down my forehead, my then sweet coaxing of "almost ready honey-don't touch anything-don't worry I won't drop you-please don't breathe-it's okay sweetie take your time-yes we'll wash your hands when you're all finished words of support weren't going to cut it...Besides the fact that I was certain that now people had infiltrated the stalls surrounding us and they were calling the Rangers to call CPS, some crazy lady is in the stall with her child telling her not to breathe...As I'm concerned about the germs, CPS, and washing her hands afterwards, the quivering and shaking of my legs were definitely noticeable on the richter scale...reading a whopping 8.0-At least...and then it happened. It happened as this concern of dropping her washed over my mind...and I ducked my head to regain composure and strength to hold her above-suspended, the poop...the poop it dropped at this same point in time...it fell rapidly into the blue stuff and other Yosemite enjoyers matter....It blooped right into the blue stuff and then...AND THEN-can you picture this yet? It splashed right onto my face. Yes, I did just type that, and YES this is a TRUE story. Oh, if I could only give you the visual of exactly how I felt and what I thought at that moment of my demise. I was positive I would be blind in the morning. They would have to surgically remove my eyes. I would have diseases I could not get rid of. I as calmly as I could...moved at the speed of fast to the lovely cold running water to wash the blue stuff off of my face and figure out how I would live past the next five minutes. My poor distraught daughter, repeatedly said, "I'm sorry Mommy, I'm sorry Mommy!" The people who now were in a VERY long line for the bathroom were wondering why I wasn't incarcerated, as they had NO idea what had just transpired...I exited the 'bathroom', to find my then husband leaping from granite boulder to granite boulder with our son. He saw this almost recognizable look on my face of fear and asked what was wrong. I couldn't contain myself and replied with urgency and an over the top volume problem with "I....HAVE....EVERYONE IN YOSEMITE's ....FECAL..MATTER ...ON...MAH.....FACE!" Of course he did not have a clue what had gone on in there...But, he offered to take me back to the car, where I then squirted antibacterial solution in my eyes...and continued like a trooper on the 8 mile hike, and with every step taken with the brisk air on my eyes, I was reminded of the possibility of what had happened and that I probably damaged my daughters remaining years of using public bathrooms, forever!
Moral of this story: Use the butt gaskets. Wash with soap. Go behind a tree. Never squirt antibacterial solution in your eyes. Breathe while pooping, it might just help it come out faster.
Motherhood and Bodily Functions
Tell me where it is written that you will do some if not all of the following: hold poop of another's in your hand, get poop on your hand and God knows where else if there's a blowout diaper. You will pick boogers out of someone else's nose, and not have a problem with it. You will manage when another throws up and somehow get an iron stomach if they're your own child...but, if someone else does it-gag til there's no tomorrow. You will fart and be called out in public by someone who you're trying to teach manners to example, "Say excuse me Momma, you farted." Who tells you while you bring your child in the stall with you to use the restroom your child informs all of the other bathroom goers, "Good job Momma, you pooped, I can put a sticker on the calendar when you get home." Do you stay in there until you think that everyone who's heard that leaves? Do you wonder if they would recognize your shoes, if they saw you out in the store? How about you will have a youngster in the shopping cart and turn around from choosing the best, non bruised apples to find that your son is smoking a unwrapped tampon. Then be more concerned with where he learned about smoking, than with the fact that he just pulled the harpoon out and mocked the act itself. You will not be embarrassed one bit, if your child stands in the shopping cart with a full cart I might add at the cashier-its our turn to put our stuff on the conveyor belt and then pay-yelling at the top of his lungs "Poops coming out of my butt! Poops coming out of my butt!" because you're potty training and your trying to get him to the nearest bathroom, so that he can put a sticker on his calendar when you get home. So you dart down the aisle, after permission is granted by the cashier, and a torpedo rocket poop is protruding out his terry cloth undies...Who tells you this is going to happen? Who tells you the truth? I just didn't read that in any of the books! Not one!
Morale of this story: Just ask, I'll tell you...otherwise, who will?
Love Deeply, Live out Love & Live your Dash,
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Tina