New in Town

March 9, 2009 at 12:14 am 5 comments

Around the time of my first son’s first birthday, we moved to a new town. There’s so much to love about this little town. The sidewalks are made up of herringbone patterned brick and the street signs are reminiscent of the early 1900’s. [Think Gene Kelly Singing in the Rain] All the shops are locally owned and have beautifully refurbished storefronts. It has a great school district and a great reputation. It’s not hard to feel just a tad bit superior for living here.

While I’m embarrassed of my town-pride smugness and try to keep it all internal, I have noticed an air of snobbery among some residents. But most of the folks in town really are very nice and very friendly.

When we first moved in, I wanted something new to hang on my dining room walls. So I strapped my teething 11 month old into his stroller and headed for a local art shop to look around. He was always a good baby, and as long as I was armed with the right toys, the right snacks and juice, he was set for a good hour or so in the stroller. A 20 minute run a few blocks from home would be no big deal.

I hoisted the stroller into the tiny, charming, somewhat pretentious art shop. It was stocked with various paintings and prints organized according to genre and filed into deep slots. There were a variety of frames suspended along the walls and many catalogs on the front desk to peruse.

The very friendly young store owner came out from behind the front desk and greeted us. He gave me a verbal “tour” of what they carried, then resumed his spot behind the desk and returned to his computer.

There wasn’t much room for a stroller in the teeny room, so I parked my baby beside me in the front of the store while I flipped through some catalogs. My mind narrowed in on the pages as I searched for the exact deco-inspired print I hoped to find. I didn’t even look up. I’m not sure, but I don’t think the nice shop owner ever looked away from his computer either.

A few minutes into our visit, I smelled something. I thought “Wow, it stinks in here, I can’t believe I didn’t smell this when I walked in.” The smell was faintly familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. Maybe it was because I was still disoriented from the move . Maybe all the different sights and smells I took in over the past week kept my brain from detecting it.

A few more minutes into my visit and I had to know what that smell was. I picked my head up from the catalog and began to look around, maybe I could somehow see where that smell was coming from.

I glanced over at my little boy sitting in his stroller smearing something on the tray in front of him.

Oh, that’s not—
It was.

He’s NOT–
He was.

Smearing diarrhea all over his stroller. In the charming little art shop. In our new town where we had just moved the week before.

The nice man was still probably fixed on his computer and I probably could have could have snuck out somewhat discreetly.

But I’m instinctually non-discreet and reactionary. In the most non-discreet way possible I let out a shrill horrified gasp then bellowed out “Oh my GOODNESS!” Needless to say, I drew attention to the situation.

I couldn’t even tell you his reaction. I didn’t look up at him. I couldn’t.

With my face hot with humiliation, I spun the stroller around and high tailed his little butt out of there.

Whenever my son would cut a new tooth he would get diarrhea. I at least knew he was teething and that he wasn’t sick. But that was of little comfort.

I hustled as fast as I could toward my house. It was only a few short blocks away, but it was an excruciating few blocks to tread in complete horror and embarrassment.

My heart pounded. My face was still hot.

I pleaded internally, “please, please, please, PLEASE don’t let him put his fingers in his mouth,”

What if he eats it? What if he eats it and gets E coli? What should I do if he does eat it? Would I have to take him to the hospital?

Simultaneously I started to half pray “and please, please, please PLEASSSSEEEE don’t let someone walk directly toward us and see what’s going on here!!! Please.”

I didn’t want to be blacklisted as the poop family of the neighborhood our first week here.

Heart still pounding, I reached the bottom of the steps in front of our house. Thankfully my husband was just pulling in.

“Look at this!” I exclaimed

“What happened? What is that?”

I gave him a quick synopsis as we yanked our repulsive firstborn out of the stroller and rushed off to the backyard for a good hose-down.

I took the child in the house where he would receive the most thorough bath of his eleven months on earth. After he was dried off, freshly diapered, and dressed in clean clothes, we came downstairs. I settled into a comfy rocking chair and looked at all the boxes that still needed unpacking. “Welcome home” I thought to myself. “Welcome home.”


I was inspired to write this nauseating tale after reading Faemom’s post crib notes. It brought back this disgusting memory that still makes me chuckle 2 years later.

P.S. I still have yet to re-visit that little art shop.


Entry filed under: life, Motherhood. Tags: , , .

Beautiful Baby Week Milestones

5 Comments Add your own

  • 1. ck  |  March 9, 2009 at 10:49 am


    I am still reeling from reading that.

    How embarrassing…and gross…and brave of you to keep going.

    But oh my gosh…ewwww!

  • 2. KathyB!  |  March 9, 2009 at 5:08 pm

    yuck, Yuck, YUCK!!! You’d think there would be some DNA, some genetic code, some sort of something that would keep kids from doing this sort of horrible stuff. Blech.

    The good news in all of this is that I was hungry for a snack when I read this. Now?? Not so much.

  • 3. faemom  |  March 9, 2009 at 6:54 pm

    Oh! That’s bad! At least my poop story was in private. And not my own. I’m amazed you didn’t just hose him off outside . . . because I would have!

  • 4. KathyB!  |  March 10, 2009 at 2:50 pm

    My neighbot just stopped over and I wanted her to read this…

    Her response?


    : )

    • 5. tlc  |  March 10, 2009 at 9:14 pm

      Kathy- I love that you made your poor neighbor read this. “Ewwww”…Naturally, that’s everyone’s response. Not one of my fondest memories, but definately one of the most unforgettable, that’s for sure.

      That’s so funny that you made the comment about losing your appetite. When it first happened, I told a friend who said that his new diet plan would be to conjure up this image every time he was hungry!


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