Only a Mother

There are a few things that are reserved only for parents, that the outside world--people who haven't been there or who barely remember it--just wouldn't understand, or even think about.

Like talking about your baby's poop, for instance. I texted Jason last night to tell him about Adelyn's bathroom habits (more specifically, that she had said "Phew!" after finally going). I didn't expect this about parenting, that cleaning up stinky, gross poo could make you feel so happy. No matter how bad the stench is I'm always genuinely content to clean her up, because I know it means she's feeling relief.

I didn't expect that Jason and I would sit in our living room after putting Adelyn to bed, drinking a beer and unwinding after the day, and choose to talk about her poop. And not in a begrudging way either, in a fluid, natural "hey, she pooped three times today!" sort of way.

There are some poop stories that I'm sure I've told everyone at this point. Like when Adelyn was three weeks old and my sister Rachel was visiting from New York--we were changing a particularly gruesome diaper when Louie comes galloping in the room and proceeds to rub his butt all over the carpet in the nursery, leaving a brown, gooey trail in his path. I had poop on my hands changing Adelyn, staring at the poopy-task before me when I got done with the first one. Poop, I felt, had taken over my life.

And these are the kind of stories you tell everyone. Poop is only up for discussion when you're talking about babies or dogs, or when you're a mom.

I was sitting with Adelyn in my lap this morning, biting her nails, when I started thinking about these things. Things reserved only for parents. I stopped breastfeeding and now anyone can feed Adelyn--and our family loves to feed her, too. Anyone can and usually will change a diaper. They'll burp her or rock her when she cries, put her down for a nap and change her clothes. But only a mom gets to sit there--or, really, is willing to sit there--and bite off her baby's nails, or to talk about poop as freely as if discussing current events.

I heard about women biting their babies' nails when I got pregnant, and I secretly cringed at the thought. Not sure why.

But now, I cherish those things. Those sort of gross things only a mother will do.