Life as a New Mom: The Mother of All Accidents

I had to leave work early today after receiving a phone call from my daughter's daycare. It seems she'd had an accident. No one was hurt, unless you count the damaged psyches of the poor souls who were left to clean up the mess. And what a mess it was...

I preface this story with an apology. There really is no way to sugar-coat this one. Maybe this story gets me on STFU, Parents or some other mommy-snarking site, but I need to vent...

My daughter soiled her diaper at daycare. I guess she thought she'd be helpful and change herself, but that was not the end result. The end result was a naked baby who had succeeded in her attempts to remove the diaper but managed to smear its contents all over her clothes and bedding. It was on her hands. IT WAS ON HER FACE. IT WAS EVERYWHERE.

This is the stuff of nightmares. I was called to daycare to pick Dolly up--she didn't have a change of clothes as backup. By the time I arrived, the unspeakable horror had been cleaned. There was nothing left for me to do but apologize--which I did PROFUSELY. Her teachers were like, "NBD." I guess they've seen worse (the thought of that makes me shudder). They suggested that since she's aware of her soiled diapers, it might be time to start potty training.

Say whaaaaat? Dolly is only 18 months old, and for some reason, I thought you had to wait until your kid is 2 to potty train; however, some obsessive Googling has shown me that you can pretty much start whenever your child is ready. She may be, but I am not. Oh, Lord, I am not.

Especially when I know there are plenty more "accidents" in my future. Parenting just got nasty--literally. Y'all pray for me; I'm gonna need it.

Let's end this extremely unpleasant edition with some cuteness--Here's Dolly playing in her nursery this afternoon.

Dolores loves this #Playskool elephant so much. #playtime #dolly

*Author's Note: Dearest Dolores, if this still exists on the internet by the time you're old enough to be embarrassed by it, I apologize. I love you, and I am sorry. One day you'll have a kid of your own and you'll get it. Until then, you are free to use this post as emotional blackmail. I will buy you whatever toy/outfit/car/concert tickets you want. Xoxo, Momma*