I know, I know. They’re so cute and cuddly. The first time they smile and the first time they say your name and the first time they reach toward you and you know you’re surely and certainly loved, even without words, those are the best moments of life. The best moments of baby.
It’s just that I feel like it’s my duty to warn you: THERE ARE A LOT OF OTHER MOMENTS WITH BABY, TOO.
Take the picture above. That happened a few weeks ago, right after I dropped my older boys off at school the one morning Baby happened to be in a stroller instead of strapped to me with a Baby Bjorn (and thank God for that, because…). I know we could all say I dodged a bullet with that one, because at least all that didn’t land on me, but what you can’t accurately see from this picture is HOW MUCH PUKE THERE IS. And how many crevices an infant seat has. And how much of it ended up on my hands.
After I thought fast and made up a racing game to play with my 3-year-old twins, who, impressively, ran the entire half-mile home, I put Baby in a bath, cleaned him all up, let him play in his little activity seat and then set to work on that car seat. At first I tried using a towel, but you just have to understand. There was so much. So much. So I took it out back, sprayed it with the water hose (It took a full 15 minutes to get all that puke out. So much.) and let it dry in the sun, which was probably better for it anyway.
And then, more recently, there was this:
Maybe you can’t tell as well from the picture, BUT THAT’S POOP. Because what’s in a baby’s diaper doesn’t always stay in a baby’s diaper, unfortunately. This little stank accident happened without my even knowing. I happily carried Baby upstairs, like I always do, without a clue that every time his cute little butt bounced on my arm was another opportunity for that nastiness to break out onto my skin. Once I put him down in his crib to go get a diaper, and I found this.
It was all up his back, all in his shirt, all over his legs, all over me. What’s weird is that it didn’t smell. Or at least not enough for me to notice. Or maybe it’s just because my house smells like a swamp anyway, because boys aren’t great at flushing the toilet.
Just after snapping this picture, I pontificated aloud to my twins about how this was an impressive smear and, astonishingly, a first in these years with six boys. They didn’t listen until I came to the word “poop.”
Twin 1: Let me see it, Mama.
Me: See?
Twin 2: Ewww!
Me: Want to smell it?
Twins, simultaneously: Yes!
Me:
Twins:
Me: Um. No. I was just kidding.
In spite of all the gross things that could possibly happen (and there are definitely more than these. We haven’t even broached the subject of snot.), I totally think babies are worth it. I would clean up a thousand of those for one of these:
I bet you would, too. Just don’t ever say I didn’t warn you.
