A Sudden Onset of Postprimigravida Cerebrolysis Dyspepsia

I thought it would take me many more years of being a mother to reach the state I have found myself in today.

I am suffering from a sudden onset of Postprimigravida cerebrolysis and Dyspepsia. "What in the world is that?" you ask? Let me break it down for you:

Postprimigravida:

• post- after
  
• -primi- first [time]
  
• -gravida a woman who has been through pregnancy
  

Cerebrolysis:

• cerebro- pertaining to the brain or cerebrum
• -lysis decomposing, dissolving, disintegrating

Dyspepsia:

• dys- bad, difficult
• -pepsia digestion
  

This is the latin way of saying that you have lost your mind and are grossed out as a result of being a mom.

Steven is this very moment 15 minutes away from ending his 16 hour shift. I went to bed last night after tidying the house and writing down on a piece of paper several goals I had for today, such as cleaning our bedroom, organizing/decorating the sewing room, cleaning the bathroom, getting all of the dishes and laundry done, preparing the spot for the herb patch, finishing a sewing project for class, studying for my Botany test, and spending some time with Kaia. I woke up feeling refreshed as I had the opportunity to spend an entire night in blissful slumber as there was no man telling me the heating blanket was up too high, there was no man taking my covers away, there was no man taking up most of the bed, there was no man to roll over and breath in my ear. It was superb.

I got Kaia a bottle, fed her breakfast, ate breakfast myself and began to clean the bedroom, which came together quite quickly as I had tidied it up the night before. I then sorted all of the laundry, fed the dog, and moved onto the sewing room. A very very whiny child kept following me around, demanding in her own dialect of Babble that I was not to leave the room without her permission.

I bought these two lovely cups from a thrift store and decided I would plant some alyssum in them (I love alyssum) which I did as this very very sleepy child whined and tried to keep up with me. I wanted to put these two cups on the window sill in my sewing room next to a small strawberry planter I had place there last week, which I had planted mimosa pudica (more commonly known as Sensitive plant...boring name, in my opinion...I like the latin alternative) in. Finally reaching the point of exhaustion (which I was waiting for) Kaia was ready for a nap. I made her a bottle and put her in her crib, which usually works like a charm and I have a few hours of uninterrupted peace and quiet. As soon as I walked out of the room, she put her bottle down and began to nag me about coming back. So I did. At this point, I went from annoyed to frustrated. I swaddled Kaia, sat in the rocking chair, and rocked her while feeding her the bottle. She finished it, and yet she was not asleep. So I put her in the swing thinking that this would sure do the trick. I did not. I turned on Baby Einstein's Lullaby Time. This didn't work either!

So I let her watch Baby Einstein as I went to finish planting the alyssum. I brought back both cups and lovingly put them on the window sill and went to go get my spray bottle that I normally water newly planted seeds with, as it is more gentle than the small watering can I have to water house plants. I first misted the mimosa pudica on top, as these seedlings hadn't come up yet. I sprayed and sprayed and noticed that it smelled really good in the room, at which point I looked down and realized that I wasn't spraying water. I was spraying Mr Clean with Febreze. "Crap, crap, crap, crap!" This startled Kaia, and then she started with the whining and nagging as I left the room running with the planter in hand. I hurried and got a plastic cup, put some pebbles down in the bottom, filled it with soil, and with a plastic spoon frantically transplanted the mimosa pudica plants that I planted in the windows of the planter which, Heaven willing, hadn't yet absorbed the lovely smelling Mr Clean with Febreze. I returned to the sewing room with the plastic cup and set it in the middle with the two alyssum plants beside it. It wasn't quite the look I was going for. Ugh. I went out to the potting shed to see if I had something a little more chic than a plastic cup, which I did find, but needed a serious coat of paint (It's a plastic small planter that looks like a Grecian urn, but it's the color "olive drab" no kidding--and extremely drab it is...) So I figured I would spray paint it and then put the plastic cup down inside it and no one will be any the wiser. I spray painted it in the garage and went to see if Kaia had fallen asleep yet. No such luck.

I took Kaia out of the swing and went into her room. I changed her diaper (which was VERY poopy, take note...) and noticed that her if-ever-it-would-go-away rash was looking a little worse, so that meant naked time. Kaia LOVES LOVES LOVES her naked time and started grinning ear to ear as I took off her outfit. She's had naked time for 5 hours before, and never had an accident. I put her in her crib with some toys and she was intrigued immediately. I threw away her diaper, went to go check the laundry, and came back to check on Kaia.

Now here I pause to state something to the audience:

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me thrice, it's time for Tiffany to get a lobotomy.


Earlier this week I gave Kaia some naked time. She had earned it--her first tooth FINALLY broke through (after a month and a half of teething OY VEY). I stuck her in her crib with some toys, went to file a paper and put something away, and came down the hall to go into our bedroom and put something away there. As I walked past, I glanced in her room and kept walking--and had the thought, "How the heck did Kaia get mud into her crib?....No, that didn't look like mud, it looked more like brownie mix..." And then I had this huge realization kick me in the head. It wasn't brownie mix. I dashed into her room and saw she had poop smeared EVERYWHERE! It was in her hair, it was all over her legs, on the blanket, on her toys, on the crib, in her hands, in her mouth....WHAT??? I picked her up while holding her as far way from me as humanly possible and took her to Steven, who conveniently was in the middle of a shower. I kicked the door open and said, "Steven, it's time for her to shower NOW." He pulled back the shower curtain and gazed in horror as he realized what I had realized not 9 seconds before. He rinsed her and washed her and rinsed her and washed her...Steven wrapped both of them in towels, and as he was coming down the hall, she burped right in Steven's face. Steven has a very VERY strong stomach and in this incident he almost lost it. D.I.S.G.U.S.T.I.N.G. We came to the conclusion that, in order for Kaia to have naked time, she MUST have a just-finished-poopy diaper. Which is why I thought today, after I had just changed her very poopy diaper, that it would be okay...

As previously stated, I went to throw away the dirty diaper, check the laundry (which wasn't dry yet, UGH, so I turned it back on...) and came upon a very familiar scene--actually it was more like flippin' deja vu. ARRRGH. Luckily, this time, she decided that poop wouldn't be on the menu for lunch. I picked her up and set her down in the tub, and turned on the shower. We have a shower head that is attached to a hose, so I was able to kneel down and hose her off. She decided, though, that it was so much fun to play in the bath tub and a thrilling new experience and so she was slipping and sliding while I am trying to hose her down with the nozzle in one hand and the other hand is trying to support her, steady her, and protect her from ramming her head into the side of the tub.

Mommy won't be giving Kaia any naked time until her HAZMAT suit arrives.

The universe is working against me. I am thoroughly convinced that the universe sees when you are most vulnerable to LOSING YOUR MIND that it decides to hurl the poop into the fan.

I put Kaia in a diaper, put her in the opposite side of the crib where she began playing with the non-poopified toys, and I began cleaning the mess up AGAIN. I took all of the poop-smeared stuff to the laundry room, and began to switch the laundry as I called Steven to tell him the good news:

S: "Hello?"

T: "She did it again."

S: trying really hard not to burst into a hysterical laughing fit, but not really doing a good job, since he was going on 28 hours of no sleep.

T: "Is there anyway you could come home right now before I kill our child?"

S: "Nope. (laughter) I really can't sweetie."

T: "Okay. Fine. Bye."

He then texted me a few minutes later:

"Love you so much. Hang in there."

I texted back:

"I hate being a mom today. It's your turn when you get home, wisecrack."

He then replied:

"I was being sincere, Poop Queen."

Which then made me perturbed enough that I forgot to finish switching the laundry.

Kaia started whimpering, which then progressed to whining, which then progressed to nagging, which then progressed to a heightened state of wailing and knashing of the tooth, which then abruptly put her into a coma-like sleep. All the while I laid on the couch debating whether or not to go pick her up or to just let her carry on until she FINALLY took a nap.

She then woke up 15 minutes later.

Steven got home and didn't know what to do because I have been laughing and crying at the same time in bursting spurts . Laughing out of disbelief while wanting to see the humor in the situation, crying because I have already reached the end of my rope today and I have yet to complete anything on my list of goals--and ready to go search the yellow pages for a neurologist with sympathy enough to help a sistah out.

He took Kaia with him to Wendy's with my order in hand, as he wasn't allowed to go get me chocolate because it's "not healthy." This is the mentality of a woman with a dissolving brain.