I have a good friend who does Motherhood Confessions on her blog. (I'd link you to her, but she's private.) They are things that she feels a little guilty over, but are small and aren't things she really needs to change. For example, her most recent one was at night when her baby needs to be nursed she just doesn't want to get up because, hey, nursing hurts and she's tired! What mom bounces out of bed at 3 A.M. excited to feed their baby? I don't know any.
Anyway. I've been bouncing around the idea of sharing with you, my lucky friends, my big and most recent motherhood confession. Unlike my friend's confessions, mine is something I really should not make a habit of. Or really ever do again.
Some of you may already know it if you've talked to me at all in the last month. But since most of you lovely people live far away from me or are people I don't get to see that often, the chance of you knowing my terrible, dark motherhood confession isn't really that likely.
If you have already heard it, here's another chance for you to glory in your own motherhood and the fact that you've probably at least never done this. . . .
We were at a nice get together with some friends when Jeremy told me he needed to go pee. I took him to their bathroom and put him on the potty. Apparently his bladder was so full he couldn't wait to be properly aligned with the inside of the toilet and as he sat there he started to pee. Right on me.
Without thinking I grabbed his poor little boy head and shoved it down into the stream. And here's what's really bad. Even after I realized what I'd done, I didn't move his head until he was done peeing.
When he was finished I moved my hand and let him look up at me, pee dripping down his forehead. (I feel so awful! But I'm still trying not to laugh out loud as I write this. . . .) He didn't seem to notice just how gross the situation was or really care that I made him pee on his head. I cleaned him up as best I could and cleaned up the bathroom floor and my shirt. Then I sent him on his way to play with the other kids.
Don't judge me too harshly. I freak out if I get pen, marker, food, or really anything other than water on my skin. I can't stand hand stamps (yeah, those re-entry hand stamps at theme parks drive me insane). There's no way I could've handled pee. No way.