Why It’s Okay to Have a Shit Day (Pun Intended)

Q: “What’s warm, brown and squishes between your toes?”

A: A shit of a day. (Pun intended)

Get out of the house, they tell you.

It’ll be good for you, they promise.

With grey skies and pelting rain for the past few days, the little one and I had major cabin fever.  Willow was screaming the house down, and I had watched one too many episodes of Vampire Diaries. It was time to do the good thing, and leave my sanctuary. We were going window shopping!

So off we go- feed the baby, change the baby, pack the nappy bag, put the baby in the capsule, put the capsule on the pram, leave the apartment, down the lift, SHIT forgot the nappy bag!, back up the lift, back in the apartment, put the nappy bag in the pram, leave the apartment, down the lift, place the capsule in the car, pack up the pram, put pram in car, and”¦ we’re FINALLY ready to go!

All the while, Willow cries.

The. Entire. Time.

“Well, this is lovely.” I think to myself, as I leisurely stroll the shopping centre. Willow is sleeping peacefully in her pram, looking cute and fluffy. Other mums give me the “nod” as we walk past each other. The nod of- “Baby cried the house down too huh?” or “Up all night also?” and “Have my boobs leaked? God I hope not.”

It all seemed well and dandy, until I decided I needed to pee.

I’m in the bathroom relieving myself. I wash my hands…

Squish.

What. The. Fuck. ?

I look down and see there is a trail of”¦ brown stuff. On my shoe, under my shoe,”¦ my OPEN TOED SHOE”¦ and in between my toes.

Oh please god no!

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

In a moment of sleep deprivation stupidity, I silently took my shoe off. And slowly, oh very slowly, I raised that shoe to my nose with prayers that the brown stuff was just chocolate. Maybe someone had dropped a chocolate delicacy on the bathroom floor. Maybe. Please maybe.

Oh my god, it wasn’t chocolate.

I can’t believe it. I had stepped in human shit. Poop. Human fucking poop. I felt so violated.

Quickly I threw the shoe in the sink, and placed my violated foot next to it. Balancing on one leg with as much grace as an elephant I pumped that soap dispenser as if my life depended on it, and scrubbed the shit (literally) out of my foot and shoe. Tears welled in my eyes. I would have been better off at home watching Damon and Stefan fight for friggen Elena (yes, Vampire Diaries.)

With a big sigh, I hesitantly put my wet soggy shoe back on and limped out of the bathroom.

“There’s a shit on your bathroom floor!” I told the closest staff member in the department store.

“I stepped on crap in your bathroom!” I yelped to the next staff member I saw.

“Excuse me sir, ” I tapped on another staff members shoulder, “You should think about cleaning up your bathroom. There’s human faeces on the ground that I STEPPED ON.”

Okay, get it together, I was thinking. Time to buy new shoes.

“WWAAAHHHHH!!!” Willow bellows. That’s baby language for, “MUUUUMMM I’m hungry.”

Squish, squash, squish, squash”¦ I shuffled pathetically to the nearest mothers room. Squish, squash, squish, squash”¦ My soggy shoe left wet footprints in its path.

I begin feeding Willow, all the while staring at my foot wishing I could cut it off. That feed felt like the longest time in my entire life. My toe felt disgusting, and I was wet, and miserable.

Hang on wait a second, I wasn’t just wet on my shoe?

I look down, and I see a large wet warm patch on my right leg.  You’re kidding me, right? Is this day even happening? To my relief, I discover it wasn’t a poonami, or a leaky nappy, but it was my milk. My milk! How the hell did my boob leak that much milk on my right leg without me noticing? And near my crotch too!

We leave the mothers room with my soggy violated foot and wet leg and crotch. I felt like I was in the human fluids war zone. At the shopping centre, for crying out loud!

Squish-squash-squish-squash-squish-squash”¦ I pushed that pram like I was in the Olympic sprint team, with my jumper tied delicately around my waist, in an attempt to disguise my wet-milked-crotch.

As I quickly purchased new pants and new shoes (my violated pooped shoes went straight in the bin!) I thought to myself “Is there a lesson in this?”

Watch where I’m walking?

Always carry an extra pair of clothes and shoes in my car?

Don’t’ ever go out”¦ EVER?

I felt like shit, the day was shit, and at first I desperately tried to make the day not feel like shit.

But then I remembered back to a time in my early 20’s, where I was in a situation (that I’m really not going to go into here) where I always felt like I had to be happy-clappy-positivity-work-on-thy-self. And that was well, until one day I hit a burnout and all these crazy emotions came rushing to me and it was overwhelming to handle. In my 20’s I learnt that it’s okay to feel rotten, and have rotten days, and that you don’t always need to fix things.

It’s that lesson that I take into motherhood, and my life in general.

Sometimes, life is shit. You will have shit days. Days will suck and no matter how hard you try, it will keep on sucking until you go to bed that night and wake up to a brand new day.

I’ve learnt that to appreciate the good days.. To really, truly, love and enjoy the good days in all their small moments- you need to sometimes have a bad day.

To love summer, you need to endure winter.

To enjoy the day, you have to go through the night.

To understand true happiness and contentment, you need to sometimes know what it’s like to feel sad.

So, when I acknowledged that THAT day truly sucked, everything felt okay. I allowed myself to feel the frustration- I even stomped out of that shopping centre vowing to never return (I returned three days later). You know what? By the time I was tucked into bed, I was laughing about it. And the next day, I had the best day ever- and I was still laughing about yesterday. I was able to enjoy the next day in all it’s simplicity and ease.

That’s why it’s okay to have a shit day- it only makes the simplicity of tomorrow far happier.