Let me begin today with a tale of flowers and colour and sunshiney goodness. For once you get to the part filled with horror and disgust, nothing will ease your mind. Not sunflowers or rainbows or delectable gardens. Not even Vodka. Trust me, I tried.
Our day begins with a walk to the community garden. It is with dismay that I admit to you that I have not taken the girls there this year. Not once. It is literally a 3 minute walk from my house so I have no excuse. But now the sunflowers stand tall, beckoning Kaya sitting in her carseat while I’m waiting for green in the turning lane.
So we go and discover and a treasure trove of fun. Vegetables and fruits in various stages of organically grown goodness. Every colour we can imagine welcomes us. We smell and skip and play ‘I Spy’ and ‘Hide-n-Seek’. We play a made up game of ‘stand at the rock then yell out a colour and run to it as fast as you can’ until Kaya notices my legs are too long and I keep beating her and she sits me down explaining, “Mom, we are partners. That means you stay here and yell Go and then you cheer for me when I get to the colour.” Okay then. I think we will take that game up again when Brennyn knows her colours.
Then Kaya has to pee. “I’ll just go here mom! Like I did before outside remember?”
I do remember. But we weren’t in a community garden that happens to be directly beside the highway. She is desperate and does not wait for my approval. Pants are down, bum is out, singing begun…
“Come on pee
Oh come on pee
I know I have to pee
Where are you??”
The pee will not flow. The bum is flashing. Brennyn escapes and runs straight for that bum. Almost knocking Kaya over. We all giggle. We do not know that this ignites something in Brenny’s head.
More games then home for lunch, cupcakes and a nap. Later we play in the backyard and Kaya has changed into a size 6 skirt and no undies. She is a size 4. She is perfecting her moon apparently. Brenny chases her some more. Because bums are really, really funny.
Then later, oh later…
Kaya announces she’s going poo. Brennyn runs to the bathroom door and plays peekaboo. They both giggle. Brennyn runs back towards me, and back to the door. Giggles.
Back to me, picks up the recorder and back to the door blowing music for her sister. Bigger, louder giggles.
How blessed am I to have these two amazingly giggly delightful girls.
Smiling, I get up to clean the kitchen. Hearing Kaya is done, I wander over to remind her to flush the toilet and wash her hands. She is busy trying to figure out how to pull up her pants. “Where’s Brennyn?” I ask, panicking that she was half way up the stairs. Kaya points behind her.
And out walks Miss B, shirtless after a dirty dinner, but not naked. For she is covered in poo.
Not her own poo. No. Her big sister’s poo. All over her body.
Looking down at herself, she rubs and makes swirls. I stand still, in shock.
Then I gasp.
Then I yell. “BRENNYN…. NO!”
She looks up in surprise and then cries. Then starts running away.
“No Brennyn, NO! Come here. Stop. No. Stop. Oh my god, do NOT touch anything. Aaaahhhhh!!!!” as I run after her surprisingly swift legs.
Kaya is confused.
And me, I can not believe this is my life.
While nothing will ever erase the horror with which I carried a baby covered in preschooler poop, some things helped ease my pain.
Long, hot baths times three. Cupcakes (note the plural). Friends laughing at me via Facebook aided me in seeing the funny side almost immediately, instead of twenty years down the road.
Vodka was good.
But knowing I can share this story to my Miss B forever, especially upon becoming a mother herself, well that just fills my soul.