It was changing that golden poo this evening, and coming up with a silly song/story with Lena that brought a smile to my lips and eased away some the tightness in my back and neck that was caused by the Girl-scout-meeting-from-hell this evening.
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Why ARE babies poopies so BRIGHT YELLOW-GOLD? i have no idea. that was just the main topic of our (Lena and mine) conversation this evening. Clearly I like to support inquisitive thinking.
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Anyway.. back to the sucky evening from Hades. SO at 5pm this evening I was waiting for the roofer guy to come and give us a quote on damage from crazy Ike. He didn’t show, but since I was waiting for him I was a half hour late to Lena’s sign-up for Girl Scouts meeting that we had been planning on for weeks.
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After I woke the baby up from a deep slumber to go, I was hoping for the BEST, as I knew waking a sleeping baby is never a good thing. Lena was already teasing Dane that we were going to a meeting with “all GIRLS” no “Boys” . And I had no choice but to go.
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As I try to sneak in late to this girl scout pow-wow, Elsie had already decided she was angry with me, and was starting to screech. I snagged an open seat after getting my papers and folder, only to have Dane turn around and dart out of the room yelling “I’m not going to a meeting with ALL GIRLS!!!”( it really WAS all girls, too) I ran out after him, and immediately realize my powers of persuasion are weak as he starts running from me.. I went into my next stage- which was threatening him to come back and finally ended up begging with the offer of cookies when we get back home.
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As I get back into the room with Dane, Elsie’s screaming in her car seat as another mom is rocking her seat for me. I take her out, hoping she’ll calm down. Just as I do this a 4 year old big-eyed, mouth gaping open, dirty fingered little daughter comes uncomfortably CLOSE to Elsie and myself… asking question after question and touching more than I usually EVER let a kid touch her, but I was so stressed and embarrassed already and trying desperately to pay attention to what the leaders were going over that I did not have the wherewith all to stop her.(i.e.”what’s the baby’s name? What’s your name? Why is she crying? I like her bracelet. What is wrong with her? Is she sick?…” and on and on and on!)
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I really don’t think this little girl pinched my baby, but all of a sudden as little miss i-have-absolutely-no-personal-space-awareness nearly mauled us, Elsie let out the LOUDEST, most piercing scream I have ever heard out of her pretty little pouty mouth to date. Everyone stopped and stared. I wanted to wail myself and fall over on the floor, but I instead I tried to give some meek excuse that I’ve never actually heard her make that sound before. As if that would somehow help.
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Anyway.. she wasn’t stopping, so even though I TOTALLY knew she didn’t need to eat, I knew it might be my last hope to be able to allow anyone in that room to hear anything if I nursed her. I then remembered that I did not have my nursing cover handy because I had just put it in the laundry. SO, we were all women, right? I just tried to discreetly whip it out and plug up the little(darling)screamer. It worked, for a second, but then my milk came in too fast and Elsie popped off and it was literally squirting all over her nose and eyes… ACK!!!!! I quickly bent over and grabbed the only fabric I had in my bag, a small burp cloth and covered up a tad more as I reattached baby, who quieted down (finally!). Right then little miss (from before) comes up dangerously close and goes, quite loudly-
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
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Of course I am thinking, can this kid honestly not know what I am doing???? Geez louise- I am NOT going to be the explainer of breast feeding to this kid today. Heaven forbid I traumatize her curious eyes for life. So I try to turn away from her when her mom realizes what she’s asking (FINALLY,lady!!!) and gets her to leave me alone.
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Needless to say, despite further whining from the only 4 yr old testosterone in the room, I was able to fill out the forms, pay the dues, and get all the paperwork associated with becoming a “brownie”.
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And after we got home, and I sent Mr.grumpy pants to his room for a timeout- which he didn’t go to and ended up falling asleep on a huge pile of clean laundry in the upstairs hallway- Lena and I came together in Elsie’s little nursery- to change her poop.
Where we decided that baby princesses poop is indeed made of pure gold.
