Up Shit Creek…

I’ve been debating on whether or not to write this blog. It’s a little TMI for my liking, but then I thought, I am publishing intimate details about my body, infertility, child and relationship on the net for thousands of people worldwide to see. I gave birth on national television sooooo I am way beyond TMI at this point. So here it is, my embarrassing diarrhoea story for all to read…

Last week it was a normal Wednesday. Oakland has his early morning swimming lesson and like every other week, no matter what time we get up we are always running late and end up rushing out the door with me inevitably forgetting something, whether that be my t-shirt, Oakland’s swim nappy or a towel. Just the usual.

Anyway, we got to the centre with about 2 minutes until class started and I still had to change Oakie into his swimmers. (I learned the hard way that you don’t do it until you arrive. Oakland once shit himself in the car in the one swim nappy I had brought with me, we were again late and I had to buy one from the counter). As I was signing in my stomach began to turn and I got the sweats on. Not good. I took Oakie in and put him on the change mat and half way through I knew it was happening. I grabbed a half-naked Oakland, my bag and ran to the toilet. Fast forward and there I am, sitting on the toilet with explosive diarrhoea, a little girl in the cubicle beside me asking her mum what was happening. Don’t you just love kids and their brutal honesty? Meanwhile, Oakland was trying his hardest to unlock the bolt on the door and escape so I was trying to lean forward without leaving the seat to keep my hands on the lock. After awhile he gave up and decided to peek under the stall next door and make friends with the little girl. They chatted for a bit then he got bored and started screaming. Mix that in with the noises already coming out of our stall and we were beginning to attract some attention from the endless streams of kids coming and going. I opted to give him some toilet paper to play with. Of course he drops it on the floor. Now imagine what the floor of a swimming centre looks like. It is absolutely flooded with water, which I still don’t know if it’s dirty toilet water, shower off run or what has dripped off the bodies of the million people there that day. Either way, ew.

So what does my feral kid do? He picks up the soggy toilet paper and begins eating it. Then he decides to peek under and make more friends with next door. Before I could stop him he laid his entire body on the wet floor. To be honest I kind of just let it happen because by that point I was focusing on my stomach cramps and figured heck, he already ate the wet toilet paper so this wasn’t going to kill him. It kept him quiet, he was entertained. Then I realised why. He wasn’t actually looking under the next stall, he was lying flat on his gut, face down, drinking the fucking toilet water off the floor. That’s my boy. I mean, at this point realistically what could I do? So I just handed him bundles of fresh paper and hoped for the best while I once again had a Bridesmaids moment.

So that was last week. Today I am contending with Oakland and summer’s final fuck you to us, a delightful little summer cold. When they told me every day as a parent will bring new surprises and challenges, this is not what I had in mind.