letters to Mr. Poopie, a healthy baby, and the quest for a bra.

okay, i am sharing this because it made me laugh and cry and smile. it was the perfect end to a long day. it was originally written by Laura @ Melodramommy.


Dear Mr. Poopie,

I appreciate the fact that you are a signal of health for my little boy. I would probably hate you more right now if you were Mr. Constipation. But what I don't appreciate is the stunt you pulled on me today.

Baby Boy was playing gleefully with his Tonka trunks & the dog's chew bone (yuck!) And then I smelled your foul presence & was immediately distracted from my most important blogging house cleaning. Since I hate the thought of my precious child sitting in poopie squalor I immediately started to get rid of you as fast as I could.

As I got the diaper tabs undone I immediately knew that there was going to be trouble--call it motherly instincts. Okay, maybe any non-mommy could have known that there was going to be an issue the minute Baby started twisting, turning, & kicking furiously trying to get free. I thought that I had it under control….Until….

You started calling out like a beacon to Baby's heel, which answered your call with a swift kick into the diaper! Flinging you, Mr. Poopie, 50 feet in every direction with a huge lump of nastiness landing right on Baby's face! At which point, Mr. Poopie, you had me, Mommy, shrieking from disgust. Which scared the crap out of Baby (no pun intended) who in turn started screaming & then he slapped his hands to his face in sheer terror! Yes, Mr. Poopie I know you enjoyed this part--he raked you all over his face, up his nostrils, in his ears, on his chest, his legs, & then on me!

Each & every time I thought I had a handle on you, the more I found you in different crevices, between fingers & toes, & even in hair on his head! Oh my Mr. Poopie, you are a clever one you are. I know you were having a hysterical fit of laughter the more I screamed & fought to get you wiped. I know you were having a blast the more I grabbed at wipes desperately trying to get you off of my hands & off of Baby. You may have won that time, Mr. Poopie, but I will win in the end! It’s called “Potty Trained.” You might win some small (and big) battles during the training process, as Laura, your other nemesis as informed me, but eventually I will win the biggest battle of all! And I will teach Baby to flush you with gusto!

Mr. Poopie: 1 Mommy: 0

Until tomorrow Mr. Poopie,

Mommy—you best beware


I died laughing. I can relate to the letters to Mr. Poopie, although my stories are horrifying in a completely different way --- like when Grace's cloth diaper just falls off and is floating around inside her jammies. This has happened on 3 or 4 occasions now. It's mostly result of the fact that she's an active baby and her tummy got too round...That, and I think we need to get a bigger sized diaper cover.

Basically, there are days and nights when she's not sleeping, and I come to discover --- she is soaked, diaperless, and covered in poop. It's a great mystery to the ear, but when you enter the room, you can smell it... And when you get up close and personal, you can certainly see the poopy mess under her clothes. TO THE BATHTUB! Chris and I's personal favorite method for fixing this is using the movable showerhead to hose her down with a jet of water (then she gets to enjoy a nice warm bath...)

In other news, we went to the OBGYN today and the doctor who checked me out was actually a family friend. That's always fun. We listened to the baby's heartbeat, scheduled our sono with the clinic, and called it good. All is well. My favorite part of these appointments is people telling me the risks of my uterus exploding *NOT*. Actually, it might be peeing in a cup. Nevertheless, while I love my doctors, I am over correcting them and letting them know that this baby is in the other uterus --- so have no fear. After I let them know that, they're fine. Basically, I enjoy three minutes of their idiocy only to correct them and put them at peace --- but aren't they supposed to be putting me at peace? Hm.. C'est ma vie.

My friend is getting married in a month, and I'm a bridesmaid in her wedding. The dress came in and I picked it up a few days ago. It looks great. I have lots of room to grow huge and fat. The only downside is I need to find a strapless bra. Tomorrow, I am on a quest to find the right bra --- all the way at the other side of Tucson, in the big bad mall that intimidates the crap out of me. It's huge. HUGE. Luckily, assuming all goes well, I only have to venture into Macy's. Otherwise, I am in deep shit. I've been in the big bad mall once, and was seriously overwhelmed. I got lost. It is huge and poorly arranged. Argh! Pray for me.

That's all for today.

peace and love!