My son was about four months old. We were getting ready to meet his siblings for the first time. Well, three of them anyway.
We lived just over 700 miles from my step kids and since my son's birth we had not been able to travel and see them. Christmas had just passed, but it was our turn to see the kids for our own holiday celebration. My husband left early that morning to meet and pick up the kids half way between our home and theirs.
We lived in a one bedroom drafty basement apartment. There was no television and I barely had enough dishes to cook a proper meal. (Awe the joys of starting out broke and having a new baby!)
With my son being an infant, I kept the heat a little higher than usual and wrapped my baby in layers of clothes and blankets. I had just finished cleaning our tiny space. I did my hair and even put on jeans (post c-section momma who went through a yoga pants ONLY phase for six months). I admit I was trying to impress my step kids by making them think I had all my ducks in a row. I hadn't seen them in so long and I wanted everything to be perfect for their visit meeting their new brother.
I forget now what it was that I ate but, being a breast feeding mom everything I ate, my baby had via breast milk too. Whatever it was that I ate though upset my son's little tummy. He had a blow out and I had to remove all his layers, clean him up and put a fresh pamper on him.
Normally this is not that big of a deal. New babies poop and sometimes blow outs happen. This blow out though was a special kind of nasty. It glowed like kryptonite and smelled horrendous. My son holds the record for smelliest, heaviest poops in the history of baby and toddler-dom. He has been pooping grown men since I stopped breast feeding.
Anyway, back to changing the baby.
I had gone through an unusual amount of wipes for this pamper. My son was crying because his rear was now on fire with this poisonous liquid. It was gross, and as a new mom yes, I gagged.
Then it happened...
I don't know if all moms get the pleasure of the following experience but, it's a shame if one misses out on this kind of motherhood christening.
I had thoroughly wiped my sons fanny and it was back to clean and smooth-ville. I was changing him on the floor. Upon lifting his rear up to place a fresh pamper down my son sharted. Sharting is when one passes gas and fecal matter escapes the sphincter at the same time.
It is not uncommon with babies but, usually the fecal matter is tiny and solid, only requiring another "wipey once over". Not this time though. My sons liquid kriptonite poo sprayed me in the face with that shart. Yes, I had my mouth open and was cooing at my cherubic like spawn when it happened. My already freckled face now had twice the freckles and the shart carried enough force to spread fecal freckles on the wall directly behind me.
I froze. OH MY LANTA! I felt tears well up in my face and my little angel now resembled Satan as he giggled about the ticklish shart he had just expelled.
The following thoughts run through my head...
Do I spit? Do I scream? My Hair! Why is he laughing at me? I AM FOREVER UNCLEAN!
After a moment of being frozen in shock and horror I finish cleaning up my sharty baby and proceed to go 14 rounds with the mouth wash. Yes 14, because 6 is the mark of the beast, 7 is a holy number but, it was kryptonite sharting so I needed double the holy number to combat the evil freckle sphincter baptism.
I showered, restyled my hair and texted the hubby who --decided to share the story with my step babies, ruining my chances of impressing anyone about anything.
When the hubby dearest arrived home he proceeded to taunt me by not kissing me hello like we always do when he gets home. No, instead he said "I love you baby but...... you're forever unclean, remember?"