Dignity Be Gone: A Mother's Journey Toward Humility

For totally self-imposed reasons – a substantial remodel – our life has been a bit crazy lately. We’re all a bit spent, and the emotions are close to the surface between Stella, the Papa and me.

Yesterday was another long, long, long day. Stella decided not to nap at all after waking bright and early at 5am. She then awoke today, chipper as ever, before 5am. Needless to say, my first thoughts after hearing her cry “Mama” that early weren’t, “Oh, my beautiful, precious babe!”

I dragged my sorry sleepy buns (note these particular buns) out of bed, read a gargantuan pile of stories to an eager toddler, played blocks, puzzles, dollhouse and basket climbing (an official sport according to Stella) all before 6:30am.

As we were eating breakfast, I looked at Stella with not-as-fond-as-I’d-like eyes and said aloud, “Okay, buddy. We’re going to choose to have a good day. That’s just how it’s going to be today, so where’s Mama’s smile?” Stella played along and I felt a meager but noticeable life in spirits. Good enough.

At least we’re all healthy and safe, right?

Totally right.

Well, Stella didn’t really settle for simply seeing Mama’s forced and weary smile. She donned her entertainer hat this morning and kicked my hiney (again, note the hiney) for real. She aimed for deep, dramatic belly laughs. And boy, did she deliver.

As we were coloring, I happened to… well…. pass gas? Can I say that here? Oh goodness. I’m literally blushing as I type this. Oh well. I suppose it’s good for me to overcome my aversion to public conversations (or displays for that matter) about bodily functions. After all, life with kids doesn’t really allow for physical modesty (remember the tush… hang in there). Assuming that Stella would carry on coloring without much ado, I was quite shocked when she uttered her new word – fart. Yup. My sweet girl shouted at the top of her lungs “FART!” and proceeded to point at me as she jumped up and down with absolute glee.

Fabulous.

I guess I can’t really blame it on the cat anymore. Or Stella for that matter.

Okay, so my humility was tarnished at this point, but I felt okay as we headed upstairs for the bath. After getting out of the bathtub, I stood at the sink brushing my teeth in my bath towel. Well, towels drop. They drop quickly. And I was simply too busy and hurried to care. We’re comfortable with “being nekid” in this house, so no big deal.

Of course, that was before I felt a tiny hand gently slap my buns. And of course, that was before I then heard laughter from a tiny child who had gently slapped her mama’s buns. Yup, Stella felt powerfully compelled to walk over to my bare bum and give’er an ol’ slapperaroo. And I supposed the jiggles that ensued were simply too amusing to ignore. She couldn’t contain herself (and nor could I) and howled with laughter.

Fascinating and entertaining – that’s what I’m here for.

So after being called out on my… well, you remember… and having my backside serve as a jello-like drum for my daughter, I really couldn’t fight it anymore. Despite the chaos and despite our collective fatigue, we are having a silly and happy day today. We’re tired, sure, but we’re reveling in Stella’s new “skills” and celebrating how absurd this glorious life can be.