My Hour As A CSI (Crap Scene Investigator)


I promised real, no BS stories of Mommyhood so here ya’ go folks. While you read through this ridiculously detailed account of the last HOUR of my life imagine the clock ticking down with the sound affects from “24” (tick-tock-tick-tock). I hope you can relate and if not, don’t tell me because I like to think everyone has had this exact scenario happen to them.

3:00 PM – I naively try to exercise only to find out that the toddler had done her daily business 5 minutes in, and not because she told me but because the smell smacked me across the face like a mallet
3:05 PM – pressed pause, made sure infant was asleep in swing, ran toddler upstairs, changed her pull-up, had a 3 minute negotiation about Dora panties versus the Princess panties of which I won and Cinderella made her debut
3:09 PM – back downstairs pressed play, toddler drops a 2 lb weight on her foot, crying ensues, I lunge down to tell her that everything will be ok but it comes out as “suck it up” because my heart rate is back up to 147 and I’m about to stroke out
3:18PM – infant starts crying, I try to Jedi mind trick her into falling back asleep by sticking a pacifier in her mouth and surrounding her head with a soft blanket like a mummy, it doesn’t work
3:19 PM – press pause, hold the infant on my lap, comfort her, she smiles at me, my heart melts, she farts, I say “good one!”
3:20 PM – I feel wetness on my arm, I ignore it
3:21 PM – upon further investigation I look down and see an award winning blowout has occurred, I grab the baby like Mufasa grabs Simba in the Lion King as to not get poop on me, as I’m walking through the kitchen I notice the toddler had placed an uneaten red Popsicle on the counter and it has melted and spread through the tile grout about 3 feet in every direction, I swear under my breath and keep walking
3:22 PM -get upstairs and realize the damage is so bad a bath is necessary
3:40 PM – finish bath (with toddlers help so it takes twice as long), lotion her up, get her dressed and smell her deliciousness
3:43 PM – back downstairs, put baby back in swing, put everything that poop touched in laundry, go clean up Popsicle mess in kitchen
3:48 PM – go to push play again, look down at my shirt, see that poop is on it, exclaim “Awesome”
3:49 PM – run upstairs, change shirt, run back downstairs, add dirty shirt to laundry
3:55 PM – 10-year old gets home runs upstairs, comes down crying because the million year old hamster “Hami” had finally died, run upstairs, confirm Hami’s death, comforting hugs happen
4:00 PM – turn off exercise video

(my personal estimate from multiple stair runs, consistent increased heart rate and Lion King hold of 14 pound baby)



19 responses »

    • Thanks Donna. I often think of the talk we had at the pool in Vegas about how much harder it is to be home than to be working. Boy, is it! Rewarding yes. But this was just ONE hour. Dear Lord, Puerto Rico can’t come soon enough.

    • I’m so glad this made you laugh. It’s exactly why I wrote it. It makes me feel better to know that other moms out there can relate. Life is comical and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  1. I only have one child and no hamster, but I honestly feel like the exercise attempt is very similar! Thank you for following my blog because it led me to yours and I am thoroughly enjoying it. You’re such a good writer.

    • Thank you so much. I love yours too. Blogging is such a fun way to find like minded new friends. My days are brightened by reading stories about your life and others. So fun!

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