Things Mamas Do: Poo

I was down at the local shopping centre for a couple of hours this afternoon and so many people commented on how placid and well behaved Ned was. In hindsight, he was too quiet.

As I pulled him out of the pram to get in the car I noticed his back was quite wet {assuming he was just sweaty} but also that recognisable stench which meant a trip back inside to the Myer parents room was necessary. 

As I lay Ned down on the change mat I noticed the poo on his new pants from Katy which wasn't a total disaster ... That sort of shit {pun intended} happens all the time. Only when I undid the buttons of his onesie did I see a little more of the story. It was the poo from hell. Seriously, the most epic poo I've ever encountered.

Not only had it escaped the confines of the nappy, it had escaped the general bum area and travelled far, far north. Ned's whole back was flooded with poo {and to be descriptive, think corn, passionfruit and sultanas} and some had even managed to smear his ear, and unluckily for me, my neck and {not that I noticed till much later}, cheek.

I had only taken the bare minimum with me being wipes and a nappy {clearly clueless about what was I was about to face} so was completely unprepared. I had even left my phone in the car so couldn't capture anything for this post. I had to strip Ned off to survey the damage and considering I only had about half a packet of wipes, which wouldn't have been enough, my only option was to give Ned a bath in the sink. Yep, at Myer. Without a towel. 

Luckily no one came in to witness my full use of the facilities including using hand wash as body wash, my hand as a washer and paper towel for towel. Ned had a great time! The mirror revealed a
large amount of poo had planted itself on my top and I just wanted to get out of there. So I walked out of myer to the lift with a baby in just a nappy with poo on my face {which I didn't realise till later}
and top, I felt I had to explain and apologise for the smell when a couple joined me in the lift on my way to the car. 

I was in desperate need of a coffee so pulled in to my local to grab a coffee and share the poo story with my coffee man. He didn't seem that impressed. Perhaps he was just trying to figure out how to tell me there was poo on my cheek. #awkward

C'mon, tell me, do you have a similar poo story?

Things Mamas Do: Human Snot Rag

Do you remember how your jumper or skivvy sleeve in primary school also doubled as the perfect hanky/tissue/snot rag? It kind of made the wrist to elbow section of your sleeve look like a snail had used your sleeve as a runway ready for take-off. Eventually your mum probably convinced you to stop wiping your snotty nose with your sleeve and be a little more grown up/civilized and actually use a hanky and those days were forgotten about.

Until you had kids. They do say things go full circle {including some hideous trends from the 90s} and this snot wiping habit has returned to my life. Except this time, it does not involve skivvy sleeves - instead, it's my dear old hand.

Yep, as a mum to a kid who seems to forever be blessed with a runny or snotty nose {and is affectionately known as snot monster}, the closest and easiest option is to wipe or pick the mucus from his dear little nose and rub it on his shirt, or mine, or even my leg for that matter. Yep, I'm keeping it real here folks.

Perhaps it has some good moisturiser type qualities?

Linking up with Jess for IBOT