Keeping it Real

As I have said before (over on the right hand column of your screen) I keep this blog to document family memories and keep up with family pictures that may otherwise get lost in the sea of digital images.  I keep it open for convenience of family members - so they can find me and access this blog without jumping through hoops and in hopes that maybe someone may benefit from what they read here.  That being said, I have no idea who reads this other than my parents, in-laws, siblings, and a handful of friends who kindly leave me comments and laugh at my jokes.  So, if you do not really know me and I have somehow given the illusion that my life is all book reading and play dough making and play dates with friends, allow me to enlighten you....

Here is my Real Mom Moment of the Day:

As Mason ate breakfast in his high chair, I started to cook the two of us a couple of eggs on the stove top.  Well, after 2 slices of honey dew melon and some cheerios, Mason decided breakfast was over and let me know (in his language) that he wanted down.  So, I walked over to the high chair and picked him up, simultaneously attempting to smell for a dirty diaper.  In that instant, my upper lip and nose collided with something squishy.  That's right. Poop.  Mushy poo had oozed out of the top of the diaper and was just waiting for me to take the bait.  So, I wipe the poo from my lip (that's right, I said lip) as I assess the damage in the diaper area.  Holding Mason (with poo on the finger that I had wiped my lips with) with my arms extended while also trying to keep his clothes from getting covered in said poo, I run to the bathroom to grab some tissue for my hand and face before continuing to Mason's room to change him.  I look in the mirror as I reach for the tissue to confirm that yes, there was poop.on.my.nose.  Awesome.  So, trying to keep from gagging, I wipe it off and run Mason, who is squirming in my arms, all the way back to his changing table and take care of business.  All the while, I forgot that the eggs were cooking on the stove. When I came back in the kitchen I found my eggs puffed up about 3 inches high in some odd bubble.  Thankfully, they weren't black and so I ate them.  (After scrubbing my face.)  Who knew that burnt eggs tasted like crab legs?

Then, Mason pooped again.

The End.