Saturday, September 21, 2013

Super Mom

I saw Super Mom yesterday.
She was headed into Buy Buy Baby dressed like an urban chic goddess (skinny jeans, flip flops, black nursing tank, fashionable half coat, hair swept back in a ponytail).
She did not have a stroller or diaper bag or even an infant carrier.
Her only baby accessory was an Aden and Anais muslin blanket draped over her shoulder and across her chest, underneath which she breastfed her 8-week-old son while walking across the parking lot and into the store. (It's her fourth child.)
She was a sight to be seen. 
But even this Super Mom could not escape her child's spit up, which covered her shoulder and back.
She wasn't bothered by this at all and just said, "You know all your clothes are ruined."
I admired her, and today I felt a little bit like her.
Gianna and I went to a lovely party for our dear Erin.
It was our first time driving anywhere without John and we were only 40 minutes late. (It's a 10 minute drive.)
We got all kinds of nice compliments.
"She's such a perfect baby. She's so beautiful."
"I can't believe you are out of the house. You look so together."
Gianna slept through most of the party, but after a couple of hours, she woke up and needed to be changed and fed.
No problem. I excused myself to another room.
That's when it happened. 
While changing Gianna's diaper, projectile baby poop spewed all over me ~ my black blouse, my white skirt and Erin's couch.
A month into motherhood, I know this for sure: No matter how super you feel, a mom is always a moment away from being bathed in someone else's bodily fluid.

3 comments:

Erin Kelley September 25, 2013 at 11:12 AM  

lol ... yes! Super Mom (and Gianna) make a good case for cheap, basically disposable clothes for the next year or so.

monkey momma September 25, 2013 at 8:53 PM  

I had many a shirt ruined by the same things. I became great friends with the "sanitary" cycle on my washing machine.

Nicole September 26, 2013 at 10:07 AM  

It's too long to post here, but PLEASE remind me to tell you the story of Ben's 1st grade oral report at school (last year), and my determination to be there cheering him on in the front row with my newborn baby.

And the giant lesson I learned in humility.

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