Life gets a lot less sexy when a kid enters the picture. And I'm not just talking about the undergarments. Although if you've seen my "Fancy Undergarment Trajectory Chart", you know— it's not pretty.
Compelling as that is, I'm talking about something else. I'm talking about the things my husband has witnessed, the things that I have witnessed, the things that we have participated in together and… WELL. These are not the things of which foreplay is made.
For instance— the breast pump (yes, I am revisiting that again). A wise friend once told me that the second your husband sees you with a milking apparatus strapped to your chest, all sex appeal goes out the window. My fix? I swore I would never let Mike see me do the deed.
Oh, the things our brain lets us believe before we have children.
I thought if I pumped at home, I would do it in the privacy of my bedroom, with music drowning out the sound of the motor and a silky bathrobe demurely sashed around my waist when the task was complete.
Well, that plan didn't take into account the fact that breast pumping is done several times a day and is also THE MOST BORING THING imaginable. I learned that if I'm going to spend precious evening-time tethered to an outlet, that outlet is going to be at my kitchen counter. Where I have a place to put my laptop. And access to snacks.
EDITOR'S NOTE: If you had told Mike that parenthood meant there would be a topless woman at his kitchen counter doling out free drinks every night— I'm sure he would have pictured the exact opposite of what actually went down. (Sorry, babe.)
You know what else isn't sexy?
BABY DIARRHEA.
(See?)
I believe parenthood is split into two parts. Before and after— THE BIG DIAPER BLOWOUT.
Let me demonstrate.
It was early evening. Mazzy was about four months old. She was fed and getting our full attention, but acting moody and distracted regardless.
Then she made the face. You know the face? Confusion mixed with extreme concentration.
It stunk immediately.
Mike and I looked at each other, instinctually knowing this was going to be a two-person-job.
Before we even made it to the changing table, we discovered the poop had traveled straight up her back. We detoured to the bathroom.
Mike held Mazzy dangling over the tub while I stripped off her clothes.
I reached the diaper. It was COVERED. Inside and out.
I looked at Mike. Surely he would impart some knowledge on the best method for me to remain poop-free. The man has a preferred method for EVERYTHING (you may think I'm speaking sexually here but actually I'm talking about things like cutting a tomato and refilling hand soap canisters).
Mike shrugged. He had nothing.
I took a deep breath and carefully unfastened one diaper tab. Then the other. Then I summoned up all my surgical expertise (gleaned from playing and replaying the game of Operation as a child) and attempted to remove the diaper with as little movement as possib—
She kicked her leg.
It splattered.
Not just anywhere.
ON MY FACE.
Mike laughed and laughed in a way that said— "This image of you with shit splatter on your face will be ingrained forever."
Awesome.
You wanna have sex now?
I thought not.
———
Okay— your turn. Give me your unsexiest parenting moment or biggest diaper disaster.
UPDATE: I picked the top six stories from the comment section below and from the Mommy Shorts Facebook Fanpage am pitting them against each other in a post entitled: Unsexy Parenting: Now a Competitive Sport. Vote for your favorite!
Oh lord…
With two children I have lost count of the diaper blowouts.
But I would take baby blowouts (especially when in the “breast fed only so doesn’t stink as bad” stage) in a heartbeat over the Poopapalooza’s we dealt with for my son.
To many words. But here is what happens with potty training failure and colon the size of an adult:
http://danceswithchaos.wordpress.com/2010/09/23/poopapalooza/
And as I’ve shared with you before, this was the worst baby diaper: the Airplane Poopapalooza (no sink, no tub, half a butt hanging off the table, and turbulence…): http://danceswithchaos.wordpress.com/2011/01/29/part-1-of-the-murphys-law-of-vacations-a-special-addition-of-what-the-frak-friday/
SO BAD…I can’t even tell you.
Just, believe me.
My husband was just laughing at the woman pictured on the box of my disposable breast pads. he was like, “She’s standing there all sexy with her breast pads, when in real life she would be hunched over, crying, and probably needing a shower. That’s what women who wear breast pads are like, they are not in the mood for sex.”
I agreed. They are in the mood for a nap, and a brownie.
Yes, poop certainly is NOT sexy. My experience with diaper blowouts have unfortunately happened most often when we were out of the house, and I was woefully unprepared on both occasions. Let’s just say someone liked to take big shits in the car. And someone’s mother never seemed to have a change of clothes or spare diapers when that happened. And on one occasion, someone’s father had to come to the rescue with the diaper bag that someone’s mother FORGOT.
Having said that, I would prefer all that to poop on face!! Eeek.
Oh my goodness…we have some stories, my son was the king of the blowouts. But the one that sticks in my head the most is when one Saturday my dear sweet husband decided to take our son one morning while I got to sleep in. They were in the living room with hubby on the couch and little man on the floor. Well my dear honey fell asleep while watching the baby, and I was sound asleep in our room. All the sudden I was awoken by the sound of my husband screaming my name in a very desperate tone. I went tearing into the living room to a scene that still makes me shudder. My adorable son had what looked to be chocolate smeared all over his face, and on the carpet around him. I looked at my husband asking what was on the baby’s face, and he said poop. He was also holding my sons hands in his trying to keep them out of his mouth. He had had a blowout during the few minutes that hubby was asleep and started licking his hands off….So, while hubby cleaned up little man, I cleaned up the living room floor…which even had perfect little poopy hand prints on the floor. It was soooo disgusting at the time, but funny now. Now we have a nearly 4 month old daughter who has had a few blowouts as well, but nothing near as bad as that morning. What a way to wake up!
Disgusting.
The biggest diaper disaster I can remember is one day my husband stayed home from work. I was downstairs working out when all of a sudden he starts screaming my name. I come upstairs and the baby had pooped all the way out her diaper and onto his clothes. All over his clothes. Needless to say he showered, the baby was bathed, and I was forbidden to work out ever again.
“If you had told Mike that parenthood meant there would be a topless woman at his kitchen counter doling out free drinks every night— I’m sure he would have pictured the exact opposite of what actually went down. ” BAH HA HA!! so so so true!
OMG….tears down my face laughing so hard! Thanks for the great visual of the topless woman at the counter with snacks…just wish i would have thought of that!
The poop up the back thing is really phenomenal. And they happened a lot! For us, at least. They both use the toilet now which is better but I’m still ‘involved’ in the process. When does that end?
The job is gross but that doesn’t make me gross because I’m wearing thongs at this exact minute…wait now you think I am gross because of that. Damn. I thought I was winning.
My hubby and I had just come back from celebrating our anniversary. We were both a little drunk and trying to take full advantage of that fact and get our sexy on.
Things were getting hot and heavy when suddenly a child yelled from upstairs, “Mommy, my butt threw up!”
Let me tell you nothing sobers you up and kills the mood faster than finding a child standing/covered in a pile of shit.
Pumping. Hands down. Most unattractive thing in existence.
In all honestly, I think it was the moment that my husband inadvertently saw (and heard) the delivery of the placenta when I had my son when all sex appeal went out the window.
Well, we were in the middle of sex and a child walked in. If that wasn’t enough, she then proceeded to puke all over our bed….
Sexy huh.
Poop up the back – I know, totally sexy. I get this post. I SO get this post!
Uh, we totally had this scenario this weekend. Except my husband kissed my son’s foot. Which was wet. From poop. Which also was all over the high chair. And his body. And his clothing.
You know it’s bad when you have to cut your child out of her clothes. There comes a point when there is simply no chance of getting the mass quantities of poop off of those little clothes. I just put the child in the tub, cut the clothes off, and bathed her. Even worse? She proceeded to poop three times IN THE TUB.
Three baths and one entire set of clothing later, she was clean.
Mine wasn’t poop it was vomit. For some reason my daughter projectile vomitted every time she got sick for the first 6 months of her life. I remember my husband walking in the door after work to me huddled on the floor, crying, covered in baby vomit (formula baby vomit is the worst!) He walked right back out the door. No joke. He came right back in though. I didn’t find it funny.
Hubs and I used to have a term for sex – we called it naked time. As in, “Let’s go have ourselves some naked time.” Then Lil’ Bit came along and ‘naked time’ took on a whole new meaning as we would strip her down each night and let her roll around on a waterproof mat while airing out her tush. Suddenly asking my husband if he wanted to go have some naked time just seemed… dirty. And not in a good way.
But I can’t say that I’ve ever had poop on my face. Although, as much as Hubs and I discuss poop these days – size, color, AND consistency – how much more unsexy could poop-on-the-face really be?
The diaper blowout is bad, also when they wait until you undress them and are holding them naked before they let lose with that imitation mustard squeezy bottle move. But for me the worst has to be scooping a solid one out of the bath – urgh!
Oh my sweet Jesus you are funny!
I love your charts.. they make me feel less alone, especially in the underwear department.
My husband was facinated by the breast pump, he couldn’t believe the amount I could get out at times, then once my milk supply started to dwindle, he would cheer me on! “GO MOMMY GO.”
I laughed OUT LOUD when I read that the poo went on your face.
There’s always ONE memorable explosion isn’t there?!
God Bless us parents!
Those gravity-defying craps are amazing, aren’t they?
Next worse thing to the husband witnessing your boobs being milked by a large black bag? Coming into the hospital room to a wailing wife with a wailing newborn. I was hooked up to an IV, catheter, and evil breast-feeding contraction taped to my poor nipple because my daughter wouldn’t nurse. A La Leche Kook read me the riot act that if she didn’t latch on, she would ever breast feed. (This was after I had two blood transfusions!) Yeah, that was sexy stuff…
Alex’s worst blowout happened when David wasn’t around. He’d been constipated for days and it was disgusting. I’m glad David wasn’t there to see it because even though it was well and truly disgusting, I sang a song for the poop as it heralded the end of cranky constipation baby.
LOL! This was such an amazing post. Thanks so much for the laughs…
Let’s see… My most unsexy moment would have to be…When Taz was a new born. I couldnt find the time to take a shower 4 times a day like I needed, I always smelt like sour milk, baby throw up and cleaning supplies. And my boobs were always. Always. ALWAYS. Leaking milk. It wasn’t exactly an un sexy “Moment” but an unsexy four months.
Poop is definitely not hot. At all. I would have to say a kid crawling in bed with you in the middle of the night. Kind of ruins any fun that would take place!
I like that graph. I’ve never seen it before.
What we women *think* life as a mom is vs. what it actually is, could NOT be more different!
Poopapalooza? Is that like many children pooping in all different parts of the house? And you can’t decide which child to go to first because you like them all equally and you’re really high? Plus the guy you hung out with earlier said he’d be going to child #1 but what are the chances you’d find him in all that poop anyway?
Yummmm…. brownies….Zzzzzzzzzzzzz
This reminds me of the time I went to my first Mommy & Me at the Y. I brought tons of diapers but no change of clothes. Mazzy was shit stanined upon arrival. Mike had to meet me there with reinforcements (back-up onesies).
Too true!!! I sent your post to my hubby. I can so relate!!!!
This strikes me as an excellent way to get Mike to agree to getting a new living room rug. Commencing “Project Prunes” in 5-4-3-2…
What is it that motherhood has against exercising??? I swear the powers that be are conspiring against my stomach. There are flat abs in there somewhere. I just know it.
I mean really. Is there anything better than a bowl of mixed nuts with your beverage?
It’s like baby poop defies all gravity. I keep thinking there is an orifice of which I am currently unaware.
Not looking forward to potty training. Sounds very “hands-on”.
I haven’t worn anything but a thong since the world introduced me to Hanky Panky underwear about five years ago. They come in every color imaginable, are super comfortable and don’t dig at all. Pitch over.
http://www.hankypanky.com/Thongs
Well, at least your kid gave you proper warning. Imagine he had said— “Hey mom! Dad! I’ve got a bedtime surprise for you!”
The sexy might have disappeared but the trust remained firmly in tact.
Congratulations. I am now wondering if my ears can forget a sound they never heard.
We have a winner!
It’s nice to rewarded for your affection, isn’t it? Lesson #1: Look before making mouth to skin contact.
I am happy to say I have never had the honor of Mazzy pooping in the tub. Although, I probably just jinxed myself.
I can totally see my husband doing that. Here’s a link to a story detailing my husband’s actions in a vomit crisis situation.
https://www.mommyshorts.com/2011/03/the-importance-of-boo.html
Trust when I say MUCH MORE UNSEXY. Although if you are the kind of people who call sex— “naked time”— maybe not that far off? 😉
I love how it’s “imitation” mustard. Grey Poupon would never pull that CRAP!!
I really must renew my bra selection soon. IT’S TIME.
I would also show-off my milk output to Mike. It’s nice for the competitive side of parenting. For the boys who like to keep score.
Ugh. Nothing like a crash course in parenting. Your life is no longer your own. If that wasn’t clear enough, we have trapped you with assorted tubing to drill it home.
I have sang many dirty diaper songs myself. Sometimes it’s the only way to keep the kid still.
I had an unsexy period myself. In the first few months, showers took a backseat to sleep and sustenance. It wasn’t pretty.
Thanks! Graph is a Mommy Shorts original.
OK. Diaper disaster. Emma was maybe 4 or 5 months old. And I was having lunch with a friend at the Nordstrom Cafe. She pooped. I took her to change her. It was EVERYWHERE. And I didn’t have a change of clothes. Thankfully, the bathroom was immediately next to the children’s department. Because I had to actually buy her clothes just to get her home. Now, this was about 5 years ago, and memory does fade, but I also believe I ran out of baby wipes in the clean up process. Fun times. Things to hold over your children when they get older.
I can’t top Amy but our son walked in at the end of sex and proceeded to tell us the LONGEST story of his 3yo life. I was half naked, daddy was fully nude…. He stopped his story to proclaim “OH!”, leave the room and return in only a diaper as if he wanted to be a part of our lil nude party…. We giggled for days.
“My butt threw up.”
That?
So great. (because it didn’t happen to me.)
My sister told me the hilarious story of waking up from a breastfeeding-every-two-hours-doze, not really knowing what day it was or what time it was, just that the baby (maybe a week or so old) was still asleep. She stretches, realizing that her body finally isn’t sore anymore, rolls over and comes face-to-face with a diaper. In her bed. Yes, the last time she was awake, she fed and re-diapered the baby, put him in his bassinet and passed out. With a dirty diaper in her bed.
I have seen my future, and it’s covered in poop. Yay? I’m going to go drink while I still can.
The scene: An airplane.
The players: 6 month old Anna, my husband, me and 120 unsuspecting air passengers.
We smell something. The whole airplane smells something. My darling husband decides it’s ‘his’ turn so he dutifully takes her to the front of the cabin with the diaper bag. 30 seconds, the door of the airplane bathroom flings open, his head appears in the aisle and yells “HELLLP!!!” – baby poop explosion in a small 2x3ft toilet is NOT fun.
I was the overanxious first time mom so of course I had packed a change of clothes for all of us in our carry-on … HOWEVER, the smell of baby diarrhea when they are sick, lingers, especially on a transcontinental flight.
She didn’t cry the whole way but she sure stank.
We were very popular.
My second fave poop story is the “Projectile Poop” – you know the kind… when it arcs out of their cute little sphincters and across the room and makes modern art on the opposite wall.
Good times.
I once took Nicky to the rather stodgy law office where I used to work when he had a diaper explosion. It was epic – up the back, down the leg of his adorable baby jeans, oozing into his sock…he put his hands in it and it ended up in his hair too.
Said stodgy law office doesn’t have changing tables anywhere, so I ended up changing him on a 4″ wide swath of marble counter space next to a sink in the guest powder room (my married without child friend helped hold him there, she was a TROOPER). I threw all his clothes (thank goodness I had a change) into a ziploc bag to rinse out when I got home.
When I got home, I poo-texted my husband pictures of the inside of the jeans leg. Completely un-sexy and utterly disgusting, but highly entertaining.
My hubs was actually turned on by me pumping-he’s very caveman “large breasted woman sustain my man child” bang hands on chest…lucky for me he also likes my ample hips that are able to produce many child…but I digress..
Child #3 actually threw up in my mouth as I was holding her over me…
“My butt threw up.” –I don’t think any other phrase could kill a mood as fast as that.
when my daughter was about 4 weeks old i managed to finish writing the 100-some thank you notes for all the gifts we’d gotten. and then, yep, she had a diaper diaster over the whole pile. i think i really did cry.
my huz wanted to try and salvage, but i still had some standards. kid must have been two by the time i finished the second round.
Yeah. Sorry about that.
You know, I don’t remember a sound myself, but he ASSURES me it happened.
I can’t compete. but I got a good laugh 🙂
I wish I could’ve been there to pour you a well-deserved glass of wine
Children are parasites. They take your ability to remember, they take your taut and toned physique…they take whats left of your husbands maturity…i.e., my husband taught my son to do the helicopter penis swing the other day. Awesome. Thank you for cracking me up. The poo on the face bit? Yeah, been there. Also, I just burnt a batch of cookies because I was reading your post. Thanks?
Although parenthood is the least sexy thing to ever happen to me, watching my husband play with my children is about the sexiest thing he does. So I guess there is that. And, he is also hot when he vacuums. Just sayin.
We are all about the poop stories. You have to laugh or you’d be totally grossed out and puking next to the shitty dipes. My kid – at around 15 mos- had rotovirus and shit himself in the carseat. That was fun to clean up. I’ve never had poo on my face, though – you totally win that, um, game?
My daughter drank her own urine once. Right out of her little Dora potty. My husband did not witness this horror, but because I laughed so hard when I told him and he didn’t think it was remotely funny, he just wasn’t feelin’ the love.
I don’t know if this really qualifies, but I felt ubber unsexy and when I told my husband,he felt that I was ubber unsexy as well!
GREAT Blog!
http://www.adayinmotherhood.com/2010/12/oh-no-i-didnt.html
Our son was about 8 (?) months old and had a high fever one…what was turning out to be a “good” evening if you know what I mean. So my hubby decides he is going to get into the bathtub with my son to try to get his fever down. I decided to video tape which happens to be the funniest (and least sexy) thing I have ever seen.
With only 4 minutes left on the video camera I catch my son pooping in the tub, with my husband sitting in it until he finally realized what was happening, jumps out of the tub which makes our son start to fall face first into poopy water, I drop the camera and run to save my son. It was hilarious.
Actually just the other day Sara from Periwinkle Papillion said I should send you the video…she thought you would enjoy it!
I’m fairly certain that everything I’ve done, at least 19 hours out of every day since having my first kid six years ago has been the antithesis of sexy. But you want the details.
I believe I’m an overachiever in this category. Rather than let my sex appeal slip away while hunched into an arthritic “C” over my breast pumps, watching while each stream of milk hissed into the collection bottle and mumbling along with the machine’s hypnotic song, “ooga-sucky-wah, ooga-sucky-wah,” I got my unsexy rolling during my first pregnancy.
During that pregnancy I was blessed with the libido of an 18-year-old male human. It was divine. I was She-Ra, Princess of the Nooner. And while I still maintained my already overweight, but curvy figure in the early months, the Hubster benefited as well. But when chili cheese fries and preeclampsia (Latin for “hey fatty with the water weight”) overtook me, but not my desire for the hot loins of my man, he started avoiding me.
It turns out that hyper-swollen pregnant chicks sporting secondary and tertiary buttocks are the antithesis of the libido of a 35-year-old human male.
That is pretty bad. You know what is also unsexy? Pooping yourself-and I’m not talking about on the delivery table. I was on stool softners after the birth of my son and those combined with some greasy fast food and no control over my bowels made for quite the blowout. I wasnt prepared for him to witness that kind of thing until our golden years. If even then.
My 3-month old had a poo explosion and just as I had finished cleaning her up, she started again. I did not have the new diaper on her yet. Fortunately she was on a change pad, not right on the area rug, so I frantically began flinging wipes on the growing pile of poo, but I couldn’t quite keep up. Just as I was beginning to truly panic, my husband came home to find me still in house clothes, unbathed for a disturbing amount of time, hair unbrushed and teeth unwashed, and surrounded by piles of shit. Sssmokin’!
O man, I’ve missed the contest. Back in the day, our annual trip to Mexico was SEX FEST. You know what I’m talking about. Vacation sex is mandatory! Now, we still go to Mexico every year, but it is all-family all the time. We haven’t had sex in the country of Mexico ever since.
This is hilarious. Pumping makes me feel like a cow, and reminds my Hubs of a cow. So sex is immediately off the table. After Q was born, I stopped taking my antihistamine because I was told it would reduce my milk supply. So of course, my allergies kicked in and my eyes swelled up and got super puffy. I looked like a Shar-Pei dog. Hubs walks in the bedroom to find me in my bathrobe, covered in baby spit up, puffy Shar-Pei eyes, and up to my elbows in a diaper explosion. His eyes got big and he just backed out and closed the door. Not exactly the stuff MILFs are made of.
My daughter is a special needs child, and she still wears diapers. She got poop on her hands once, and wiped it all over EVERYTHING in my living room trying to get it off of her hands. TV, couch, floor, you name it. It was on her face, in her hair….I can’t even go on.
I found you on the Weekend Linkup–this is a great blog and I am now a follower.
oh my GOSH. My son was a few weeks old. I was attending a get together with the girls of my family at my sister’s future mother-in-laws house. I needed to change his wet (at the time) diaper so I took him into the less fancy living area, laid him on the couch, took his diaper off and WHAM! It shot out, straight out, onto the white couch and the white carpet. Mortified. Luckily she is a mother herself and arrived with a bucket and oxiclean. Fun times.
I run a daycare and my most pooptastic time was when a little one awoke silently and then proceeded to cover the entire playpin (and all with-in) in poop. In five minutes flat.