The Tale of the Mystery Rock

First, I feel I should admit, out loud to the virtual world, that I really struggled the first few months of Peach's life. Mario had just started Kindergarten and needed me emotionally. Luigi was a mere 15 months old and was learning how to do all kinds of things. Mostly destructive things. He needed me, too. And then there was baby Peach, and we all know what those first few weeks with a new baby are like. No sleep, feeding all the time, cranky and crying...and that was just me. It sometimes amazes me that someone so small could need so very much.

Anyhow, the point of this is to let you know that I was crazy those first few months as a Mom of Three. It was a learning and adjusting period for the entire family. I had to figure out how to split myself into several different people so that everyone could get a piece of me. Needless to say, I was sort of....well, not really with it. I felt like I was walking around in a daze most of the time. Just wandering aimlessly, drifting from one child and pile of laundry to the next. I tell you this so that you understand why the following events happened the way they did. Which brings me to the Mystery Rock.

On a fine fall day when Peach was a tiny newborn, I was sitting in my daze, feeding her for the 207th time that day and I was watching the boys play on the floor. Well, play might not be the right word. I don't really know that any 5 year old has much interest in playing with a 1 year old. However, they were on the floor when Mario found a rock in the middle of our living room carpet.

Mario: What is this mom?
Me: Just a rock that probably was brought in from outside. Or isn't it one of the rocks from your dinosaur set?
Mario: No, I think it is poop.
Me: It is not poop. I'm tired, let me rest with the baby for a minute.
Mario: But, Mom, I really think it is poop!
Me: It is not poop. If it is bothering you just kick it under the couch and forget about it.

Yes, I could have told him to throw it in the trash, but remember, I was extremely tired. I'm surprised I even really remember the conversation at all.

A couple of weeks later, I rearranged the living room furniture in a vain attempt to hide the mess of toys that had taken over my entire first floor. Wouldn't you know it, when I moved the chair, out rolled the rock. Hmm...I remember that rock. But, I am busy, so I am just going to kick it into the pile of toys and keep on rearranging. Again, please keep in mind that I was overwhelmed and not thinking straight.

A few days later, Mario and Luigi were playing again. Luigi found the rock and picked it up and promptly threw it at his brother.

Mario: Mom! Luigi found the poop again and threw it at me!
Me: Mario. It is NOT poop. It is a little plastic rock.
Mario: Mom, I really think it is poop. It doesn't feel like a rock.
Me: Fine, look, I will show you, if it was poop, it would totally stink!

And yes, that is when I picked up the "rock" and took a big whiff and realized, "Holy sh!t. It IS sh!t!" Imagine my disbelief when the "rock" I had been kicking under the chair for weeks was actually a petrified turd. And imagine my relief when I decided to smell it instead of bite into it, which was my first thought. Good thing at the last split-second I thought, "what if it actually IS poo?"

At this point I screamed, ran to the trash and then ran to the sink to wash my hands about 27 times with lye soap. Ok, I didn't actually have lye, but if I did, I probably would have used it. Also at this point, Mario looked at me and said, "I told you it was poop, Mom."

In my haze of sheer exhaustion, I vaguely remember mopping the floor and cleaning off some of the toys I think the rock-turd touched. I also made a plan to be sure that this wouldn't happen again. The plan included strapping diapers down to the point of cutting off circulation, and not trying to change a diaper with one hand, while holding the baby in the other.

I would like to tell you that the incident with the Mystery Rock snapped me out of my stupor, but in all honesty, it took a while for me to fully get a functioning brain back. Actually, I'm not sure that I ever got back to "fully functioning," but I am at least aware now of the difference between poop and rocks on my living room floor.

And they lived happily ever after....The end.

Cheers!
~Daisy