Meditations on πŸ’©

Many of my challenges over the past few weeks have come in the form of poo. Sometimes I think early parenthood should actually be entitled Adventures in Poop.


Scene: we have a short layover in Frankfurt between Zagreb and Miami. We go through customs. The German equivalent of TSA official takes my baby as I go though security (this shocked me, but he was really sweet with her) and she pooed. 
I take her back, there is poo all over my arm. Then my bag gets tagged for additional security. "Please, sir, can I go change my baby? My husband can stay with my bag" "no, I'm so sorry." Then the polizei came to check it out. By the time they had finished we had just a few minutes before the gate was supposed to close so we ran. And the poopy baby screamed. And everyone stared. Luckily, I was able to change the babe before we boarded the plane.  

Scene: I'm walking 6 minutes to the grocery store with the dog and the babe. The dog stops to do his business. Then his business gets stuck all over his back legs. I stop in CVS to purchase baby wipes and then stand outside trying to wipe the business of of the dog (who seriously hates this, btw). Then a giant cockroach (with claws!!!!) comes running out of nowhere at the dog, who then slips free of his collar and starts chasing it. I somehow manage to pull everything and everyone together while never taking a hand off of the baby stroller. 

Scene: the toilet in our home clogs. It is full of poo. I hate this so much. In the past my method of toilet plunging involved praying until the guck went down. I spent two days trying to do this (while panicking that the poo germs would seep out of the bathroom and get the babe sick). We called a plumber. It cost $185 to fix, the husband was pissed. We go on vacation for two weeks, come home and the toilet clogs again. Ugggghhhh. 

More than anything, these poopy moments have been the moments when my 10 years of meditation and yoga practice have become meaningful. Meditation has no joke been the most useful tool for motherhood thus far.

Here are some simple meditation tools that have gotten me through the poopiest of moments:

  1. Breathe. Any moment of panic will be ameliorated by stopping everything and taking three deep breaths. 
  2. Laugh. Because, seriously?! πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚ This sh*t (get it?) is way too funny to take seriously. 
  3. Brush it off. There was a time in my life that an encounter with the world's scariest cockroach would have sent me reeling into a germophobic panic, but instead I experienced the panic and then let the whole thing go. Yes, it still grosses me out when I think about it. Also, do not Google cockroach images. 
  4. Don't give a f*ck. This has been my favorite lesson of motherhood. Don't listen to everyone's opinions because they don't matter. Choose a few resources / mentors you can turn to for advice, reassess every once in awhile and carry on with your badass mommy self.
MeditationsJacqui SomenComment