The Poonami: A Total Shit Storm

Let me set the scene! It was tough but you put your face on threw your hair into some kind of style. Picked out your best boots and chose an adorable outfit for your cute side kick. Operation meet the Yummy Mummy’s has begun!


It’s all going well. Conversation flowing, coffee ordering went smoothly ‘yes I will have a slim, vendi  latte, not to much foam, hazelnut twist’ brilliant, nailed it! I am a sophisticated yummy mummy, I can pull this off. Or so I thought! 

Striking up empathetic conversation with the mum next to me, bouncing Pudding on on my knee. Casually sipping at perfectly ordered, tasteless coffee. Inside I am doing cartwheels. I have this mothering shit down, nothing can stop me now. Nothing except that ominous tummy rumble from Pudding. Followed by the long juicy sound of a deposit being made in her clean nappy. Balls! Then comes the obnoxious aroma – why did I let that baby eat some of my curry last night?!!! Oh no is that a slight damp patch on my leg…

Of course the small one is grinning, waving her arms and bouncing. Don’t bounce like that, something bad will happen. Too late one huge bounce and I can feel moisture on my hands. Horrified I look down… Yep it’s a level 5 disaster. Action stations we have a Poonami!! 


Don’t panic, I tell myself, we can handle this. Scoop up Pudding, grab nappy bag and walk confidently to the changing room. 

OH my fucking Christ. That smells awful. I Start to peel off layers. There is shit everywhere, literally everywhere. It’s all over my hands and right up to the Puddings arm pits. Peel off all clothes, contemplate saving them, then just chuck them in the bin. Wet wipes are not going to cut it. You child are going in the sink! 

Thank god for huge muslins. Wrap a now screeching Pudding up and sit her on the floor on top of a freshly cleaned changing mat. Of course whilst my back is turned she quickly removes herself from the Muslim and proceeds to parade stark naked round the questionably hygienic baby change. Frantically scrabble in the changing bag to find a replacement out fit… Meanwhile misses has pulled herself up on the sanitary towel bin and is attempting to force open the lid. 

Hooray baby gro and nappy found. Wrestle on the floor with her majesty whilst she screams blue murder about not getting into the sanitary bin. Tuck her under my arm as I attempt to wipe poo off of every surface. Except I didn’t realise that she has some on her hands… Gross and made even worse as she waves at me in the mirror and proceeds to wipe it all through my freshly washed hair. Before taking that exact moment to vomit down my top. I mean seriously this kid never vomits… Probably the bugs she has just picked up from the floor/sanitary bin! 

Slink out of bathroom smelling of cheesey milk and poo… Contemplate going back to the table and finishing my coffee. Nope not now, I can’t face it. Red faced and smelling like a bin lorry I  head back to the car. This is one Poonami I want to put behind me!

Parenting: The Bad & The Downright Disgusting

So you knew parenting would have good and bad bits right? But I bet you didn’t realise that it would at times just be downright grim! Of course you have seen the cutesy milestone cards ‘babies first smile’, ‘babies first wave’ ahhhhh. I expect someone brought those for your baby shower. Lovely little present for a Mum to be who is so full of hope and glowing with happiness. If you are a bit more cynical (like me) you may have seen the ‘alternative’ milestone cards; ‘first time baby wee’d in your face’ , ‘exploded nappy, shit to the armpits’ – yep they are pretty funny. In fact they almost make you take those rose-tinted glasses off.

TawnyNina / Pixabay

Oh ho ho ho I can hear you saying. Surely this post has been done to death? Everyone knows parenting is a hard and often thankless task… Yep it is, no news there. Not exactly an epiphany moment! Well this is the bad and the downright disgusting from a mother of two and a nurse to over 2000 babies. You ain’t seen nothing yet my friends…

The Bad;

  • Early mornings – I hate getting out of bed. I never have been a morning person. Children do NOT facilitate lie ins. Whether they are 3 days, 3 months, 3 years or 13 years. These pumped up duracell bunnies are up and at’em every morning. Unlike adults they don’t start the day gently with a coffee and a piece of toast. No No its light sabers at dawn…
GooKingSword / Pixabay
  • The noise – kids scream and they whine, babies cry and when they aren’t doing either of those they are still very LOUD! They talk loud, they sing loud and they play loud. They have a collection of noisy, irritating toys which play the same tinny melody over and over. Saying that silence is suspicious, very suspicious…
  • Twenty questions – yep so kids ask questions to learn. Unfortunately they will ask the same question 15 times in 10 minutes. Even if you answer it every single time, and explain your answer, they will continue to ask. Over and over and OVER like a monkey with a miniature cymbal. Until you are literally smoking from the ears. When they will turn round very innocently and say ‘you have said that Mummy’… Pass the GIN now!
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  • Food critics – have you ever spent hours cooking a meal to have it met with total disapproval? It is utterly soul-destroying. All those parenting books and magazines showing little darlings chomping happily. They lie. Most kids know if a vegetable has been secreted into a meal. They take one look at your culinary masterpiece, declare its disgusting without tasting it and fling it (or themselves) on the floor.
  • Refusing to sleep – argh this is the most frustrating thing. You know they are tired, be at the baby or the preschooler. Everyone will feel much better if they just have a little snooze. Will they sleep? Will they hell! You have rocked and shushed, made 2 drinks, tucked them in 10 times. But they are screaming, like a banshee. Repeat the above steps 5 times. Eventually they give in, you flick the kettle on for a quick brew. Before the damn thing has boiled they are awake again. Fully recharged, FML.
KManzela / Pixabay

The Downright Disgusting

  • Potty Poos – hooray you think we are in the potty training phase. No more disgusting nappies to deal with. My friend you are celebrating too soon. Because the one thing worse than a shitty nappy is having to scoop king kongs first dump of the day out of a potty. Shit is sticky, really sticky. It doesn’t just slide out and into the loo. It smears its way up the side, gets caught on the top and sits there like some hideous cake decoration. You can try to do the potty-skank to shake that bad boy off. But at the end of the day you know you are getting some loo roll and peeling it off. Usually with an accompanying wretching noise
  • Bogies, snot, dribble and slime – So your cute little baby has turned into a slightly sticky toddler. Usually excreting some kind of mucus out of one oraifice or another. Yummy. Worse still they insist on wiping this on you, on the sofa, the dog, the wall the floor and even the loo seat. Everytime you sit down there is a sticky wet patch to contend with. You look at the TV and the little darling has made a picture in the corner out of boogers. Whilst you try not to gag cleaning that delight up they are standing next to you raking those bogies out and eating them…
  • Germ Factories – all kids should come with a haz-mat label attached. They are literally crawling with bugs. Most don’t even seem to affect them for more than a day. But you catch little Timmy’s cold and you feel like you may have some kind of haemorrhagic fever. They also bring home some real delights like hand, foot and mouth. A virulent little bugger that has the whole family breaking out into tiny itchy blisters, a pox on all our houses. As for the infamous D & V well once your 2-year-old has come into the lounge said ‘Mummy’ and then promptly performed some kind of exorcist ritual over the washing airer you will know where I am coming from.
  • Eating – eurgh kids are such antisocial eaters. Worse than that chap in the pub who sprays crisps at you every time he says hello. Right off the bat they are grim. From newborn reflux all over your shoulder to weaning smoosh up the walls. Everything is half eaten. You put you hand down the side of the couch to find the remote to be greeted by a 4 day old half eaten banana covered in raisins. They eat with their mouth open, spray food out of their mouth and spit things they don’t like into your waiting hand.
tookapic / Pixabay
  • The licking phase – if you haven’t had this one yet you are in for a treat. Kids lick. Your arm, your face, the dog and these are the acceptablish things. It is not however; acceptable for them to lick shop windows, dried ketchup bottles at the cafe, the wheel of the car of the handle of the escalator (shudder). Besides being generally gross it is also exceptionally embarrassing to have to tell your child to stop licking things, you get some very odd looks…

There you have it – my list of The Bad and The Downright Disgusting bits of parenting. Would you agree? Have you got some other gems you would like to share?!

 

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Potty Training A Poo Pirate

I am so glad that people have stopped asking about how the toilet training is going, now that Pie is 4 people assume correctly  incorrectly that we have successfully mastered this key milestone. I have tried all manners of bribery, stickers, chocolate buttons, reward charts, expensive potty’s, wine, new pants; you name it I have tried it. I have tried tough love, my husband once woke up for his night shift to hear me say that 5 pairs of trousers in an hour was unacceptable and that he would have to spend the last hour before his bath in the nuddy… But seriously I can’t keep up with the washing! You would think that as I started attempting to get Pie clean when he was 2 and half that we would in fact have cracked it, but you do not realise that he  is in fact a Poo Pirate, too busy conquering the Seven Seas of Wee too consider using a potty or heaven forbid a toilet!

sever111 / Pixabay

10 Rules for Potty Training Poo Pirate’s:

  1. Ye shall ‘ave th’ choice o’ which vestibule in which t’ ship thy internal waste. Once ye has made thy choice ye shalt nah change thy mind or whinge fer fear o’ bein’ strung up by thy ankles from th’ main mast  washin’ line.
  2. Thou shalt nah mug thine Mother off by pretendin’ thou has wee’d jus’ t’ receive bounty chocolate buttons, if thou dost ye shall be marooned on a desert island in time out.
  3. Successful use o’ th’ potty cannot be used against yer Mother t’ gain further treats aft th’ initial reward.
  4. No poo shall be left unattended in th’ potty due t’ th’ scurvy Sausage dogs love o’ all faecal matter, all poo must be immediately reported t’ th’ Cap’n
  5. No drink shall be consumed aft 6pm in th’ vague hope that yer bladder will be emptied afore bedtime, thus providin’ a dry nights sleep in ye hammock
  6. Only one portion o’ beans be allowed per day due t’ th’ magnitude o’ poo explosion per helpin’, furthermore ye will nah run around th’ deck wit’ a poopy bum, nor shall ye put thy skiddy underpants on thy head!
  7. Any hittin’, yellin’ or unruly behaviour aft th’ command t’ use th’ Potty has been issued will result in th’ Poo Pirate walkin’ th’ plank being marrooned in time out
  8. Proclaimin’ ‘Mummy I ‘ave damp pants’ ‘n then refusin’ t’ use th’ potty afore bein’ issued wit’ a new pair will be resolved by duelling a wrestling match
  9. Hands must be washed aft usin’ th’ potty, ’tis nah negotiable. Any non-compliance shall result in reduced rations o’ rum fun
  10. Th’ Mother shall ‘ave rest on Sunday’s from potty trainin’ the Poo Pirate. Daddy will be in charge o’ sailin’ th’ ship!

Have you struggled to get your kids clean and dry? Any fantastic tips that might help the Captain of this ship?

 

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My Dastardly Dachshund

**Disclaimer For those of you with slightly weak stomachs or who have recently eaten this is an advanced warning that this post contains a lot of items pertaining to poo, poo eating and general poop sandwiches. If you find the idea of this disgusting or are easily offended, I strongly recommend that you read no further and don’t buy a dachshund…**

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For the rest of you please let me introduce Flick my beautiful smooth haired mini daxie, look at that face…. Butter wouldn’t melt right? WRONG. This dog was sent from Poo City in the land of Eatanykindashit to terrorise me at Pudding HQ. Flick has always had the tendency to be a garbage disposal unit, she is the only dog I know who can scale a dining table and at only 8 inches tall that’s pretty impressive, but its not her food stealing that really gets to me its the non-food substances. There is nothing worse than having a dog who consistently eats poo – she has no limitations what so ever, horse poo, rabbit poo, and her personal favourite fox poo. She loves that last one so much that we have to keep a bottle of ketchup just for her so that we can wash her in it after she has rolled through a great steaming pile…. but enough of her general misdemeanours, let me tell you about today.

The general Sausage behaviour at Pudding HQ has seen some improvement in the last few weeks, and in hindsight this was probably the reason I let my guard down. I was fooled into a sense of security by a couple of chipolatas… Tonight I had to pop to the Drs and with Mr Pudding at work this meant I had to take Pudding & Pie with me and the appointment was right on tea time. Not a great beginining but manageable I thought. Kids loaded into car, no need to take all the usual stuff, we weren’t going to be long. Arrive at the Drs – speak to receptionist, sinking realisation that the appointment is in fact next week, damn! Get kids back in the car and head home, we have been all but 15 minutes maximum…

 

Open the front door. Strangely there is no barking which is unusual, normally both dogs go crazy. Look into the living room and down towards the kitchen to see Flicks pig-like hind quarters wobble round a corner. Then the carnage that is the front room hits me! In the 15 minutes we have been gone Flick has decided that she wants to get into the changing bag , where completely forgotten is an unopened dairylea dunker, or should I say there was! There is now a pristine clean empty dairylea dunker package on the couch, whilst the floor has fallen victim to what was probably only 3 tissues but at this point looks like about 1000…

The entire contents is out of the changing bag and as I begin to clear up the mess I put my hand in something sticky. There it is that moment of complete horror when you realise that the dog has in fact pierced the bonjela teething gel and has eaten half the tube, I whip round to see where she is and if she is ok. At this point Flick is laid on her bed looking at me, slightly quizzically.

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She knows I am angry but she knows if she stays still I will probably just let it go. I guess she probably would have licked me as an apology but her lips and tongue were numb (bonjela appears to be more effective on numbing dog faces than baby gums…) Having cleared up changing bag carnage, I feed the kids, deal with a huge eight legged creature who had to meet a watery end down the plug hole (I have a poo eating sausage dog to contend with I don’t have time or braveness to handle humane removal of hairy spiders as well). We all have a lovely bath time and head up stairs for a story.

About 10 mins later I send Pie down to grab the potty in case he needs the loo in the night. Cue an almighty scream followed by ‘MUM there is POO EVERYWHERE’. Oh no, damn damn damn, in my haste to get the kids to bed I have left Puddings disgusting post immunisation nappy folded on the top of the bathroom bin ready to take straight outside. Except now it isn’t on the bin, no no, its strewn all. over. the. house. Those who have never had a nappy shredded may not realise that a wet nappy is full of gel beads that are quite slimey and on top of this is a layer of loose evil smelling poop. I put the kids to bed, the damage is done now after all! As i come down the stairs an awful smell hits my nostrils, I walk through the dining room, stepping over some poo covered wipes, Toby is on his bed shaking and looking thoroughly disgusted (Toby hates poo, he is more of a sick kinda guy).

Flick is nowhere to be seen, but as I head for the source of the awful stench now leaking round my house I can see her in the bathroom. She doesn’t hear me coming, she has her head down snaffling chunks of poo and licking baby wipes clean, as if the smell is not bad enough to witness that was really the final straw – she was banished to the garden whilst clean up was undertaken…

You would think I would have  learnt my lesson with Flick. Like I said she is a self confessed-pooaholic. I should have realised from when I first started potty training Pie and she stole the poo out of the potty before I could tell him what a great job he had done (I swear that is why we are still fighting the potty training!), that she was an addict. That all temptation needed to be removed… But alas she still lulls me into thinking she will be ok, its those eyes, I just can’t resist them. She is the naughtiest, most disgusting, poo eating dastardly dachshund that has ever lived, but by god she makes me laugh and I wouldn’t really have her any other way!
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The Great Car Journey

 

It all started like any other car  journey from my parents back home. I gathered the various items that had been scattered to the 4 corners of the house. I then stuffed them into our suitcases before attempting to play Tetris with various items in the boot. I don’t know why I I insist on bringing the pram wheels.  We never use them but I like to be prepared. So having finally stuffed everything in I begin the task of wrestling Pie into his shoes and persuading him that yes he will need a wee before he gets in the car.

Meanwhile Nana is changing Pudding and attempting to feed her some milk. Nappy change went well, getting milk in her, not so good. Pudding is one of those babies who eats only when she wants too and all of natures elements are in line. The sausage dogs have yet another toilet run. My dad mentions something about my boy sausage but I figure it’s probably nothing and finally I load two children and two dogs into the car. Phew what a mission, but least now they are all confined it shouldn’t be too bad right?

Sausage Dog

Oh had I known then what I know now…. We set off and I tell Pie we will need to stop for petrol, and he immediately starts listing all the things he wants from the garage. We stop and fill up, I notice as I am paying they have one of those traffic board things and its flagging up problems on the M25. I moan to the chap at the desk, he laughs and says we usually just leave that one up as there is always some problem! At this point I think; it’s all right for you mate you haven’t got the equivalent of an H bomb sitting in your car….

I climb back in, surprisingly all is quiet and Pie takes it quite well that I have not brought sweets. Quick check on Google maps shows the M25 is at standstill. Damn, work out new route to join the motorway a bit further up, battery on phone really low but I reckon it will last, off we go….

The first part of the journey is a doddle, all kids and dogs have a snooze and I sing along quite happily to the radio, admiring some of the beautiful towns near where my parents live. As we join the motorway I am feeling quite smug all the cars are moving quite well, my plan has worked. Well it has for 3 minutes and then we found the traffic. An hour later Pie woke up and we were still sat on the motorway. I handed him a sponge finger and we talked about the aeroplanes that kept flying over our heads. It was at this point Pie said ‘never mind the sick Spotty Dog, I have some on my trousers too it’s ok’ to which I said ‘what sick mate?’ Well it transpired that the boy sausage had been sick on his bed.

When the traffic stopped again I turned round to see two huge piles of sick on the dog bed and my boy sausage looking very sorry for himself. My girl sausage was disgusted with him and she had got down and was lying in Pies footwell. Pie just shrugged and said never mind Mummy, I couldn’t believe he was taking it so well!

It was 5 minutes later when Pie started laughing like a mad person that things really went down hill. There was a slight squelchy bottom noise from the back, followed by ‘Mummy, Toby is having a poo’. Good lord that wasn’t a poo, that was explosive dog diarrhoea, all over the back of the car! I can’t even describe to you the smell, but suffice to say in a hot car it was pretty awful! Pie and I looked at the stand still traffic and we just laughed and laughed, what else could we do?

I have to say an hour and half later we were not laughing quite so hard. Pudding had woke for a feed and was screaming her lungs out, the air in the car can only be described as chewy. Finally we turned off the motorway and into the service station. The clean up operation was a nightmare. Pie was a star, he stood outside the car for 20 mins while I removed the dogs and tied them to a tree, threw their bed in a bin and wiped the whole back seat down with a baby wipe. (Honestly I haven’t found anything that a pack of baby wipes can’t clean).

Once the dogs were loaded back into the car, we went to grab a MacDonalds, because at times like this the only thing you can do is eat. Unfortunately we had to go back and eat this in the car, which was still pretty grim but we couldn’t leave the dogs in the car on their own. Once everyone was fed and watered we got back on the road and finally got home after 6 hours of travelling, luckily with no further disasters!

This trip has taught me a valuable lesson, when Grandad says ‘your dogs got a bit of an upset tummy’, you should listen to him and take travelling precautions. Suffice to say the car has had to be valeted today.

Photo Credit: MAIDMENT via Compfight cc

Pink Pear Bear

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