The Fluids you Can't Control
Some fluids you can control. Some fluids you cannot. Serenity is knowing the difference.
My sister is the world's best guest. She has always been a considerate person, but when she visits, it's not like any more work for the host, it's less! She the kind of person that cleans up after herself and bakes brownies and pays attention to where things go in the kitchen so she can dry the dishes and put them back. She's the kind of person who strips off the sheets from the guest bed on the day she's departing and throws them in the washing machine. She IS the easiest house guest. And she wants to be. I know it is in her to make her host's job easy. That is why certain events that unfolded this past weekend agonized her.
You see, this weekend was Loftus-fest. And so we all went to Baptiste Lake to re-visit our extended family and our memories and to spread my grandma's ashes in the forest with my grandpa's. Mary, Ben, Baby Isaac and their dog, Frisbee, stayed at Aunt Jo's cottage with Mark, Cole and I. We were so grateful for a comfortable, quiet, air-conditioned place to rest our babies. That way we could visit the main festivities and then retreat when we needed to. We were extremely thankful for Aunt Jo's hospitality and we didn't want to impose. Mary, being the kind of guest she is, cared even MORE about not imposing.
That is why it was so difficult when, in the first five minutes after their arrival, Frisbee peed on the carpet in the basement. Mary was mortified. And she was mortified to have to ask Aunt Jo for the cleaning supplies. She was mortified when I tried to help her clean it up. But these are the fluids we can't control. The fluids coming out of our canines.
But it gets better.
Later, we were all lounging on the dock. And Isaac had been kind of fussy. And suddenly, while he lay in his father's lap, he had one of those gigantic blow-out liquid poops. If you've ever had a baby, you know the ones. They creep out the top of the diaper and produce bright orange stains on the backs of onesies. That is the kind of poop we're talking about....except....times ten.
So the orange fluid leaked out of Isaac's diaper. And it leaked through his clothes. It made a fluorescent puddle on the cushion of the lounge-chair. No problem. Aunt Jo dipped it in the lake and we scrubbed it with dog shampoo. Ben (the dad), took Isaac up to the cottage for damage control. As he walked, he felt kind of wet and warm and he thought to himself, "I didn't realize I was sweating THAT much." (He hadn't been). The poop had leaked onto his lap. He had a gigantic yellow stain on the crotch of his swim suit. But he didn't realize it until he'd sat down on Aunt Jo's bedspread to change Isaac. Poop on the swimsuit. Poop on the bedspread. And when he came back down to the dock to break the news to Mary, mortification and shock on her face.
The blow-out orange cottage cheese poop coming from our cherished cherubs...that's another fluid we can't control.
As moms, we are in charge of a lot of individuals and all of their fluids. Some of which we CAN control, and some of which....well, you know what they say about spilt milk.