First Daughter 4 months old, September 2005
Fall is my favorite season.
I love the colors, the cool brisk air, the smell of fireplaces burning, the start of a new school year.
There's something about it that reminds me of home.
Fall 2005 was the first fall that I wasn't starting school again.
I had just graduated and started a new chapter of my life as a mommy only four months before this picture was taken. I liked my new freedom from classes, homework, and deadlines, but was finding motherhood to be just as challenging, more time consuming, and way more rewarding than school ever was. I was loving being a mom.
Right around four months old, First Daughter was beginning to sit up. The doctor told me that babies with "larger bottoms" were usually early sitters. Luckily, since First Daughter inherited this trait from her mother, she was among those early sitters. I was thrilled and anxious to document this new milestone. Being able to sit up meant a whole new world of photo ops.
I took First Daughter down to my favorite part of the river trail, not very far from where Husband proposed to me. This was one of the few places that I knew I would find trees that were showing the fall colors. With blanket, baby, and camera in hand, we headed down the trail looking for a backdrop.
This was the best we could find. My expectations, coming from New England firey reds and blazing oranges, were hard to find in the very yellow and brown dessert of Utah, but we settled with this nice little patch of color (that I think was actually a weed. Oh well.)
I sat First Daughter on the ground a step off the trail, sat down in front of her, and started snapping. I took a small handful of cute pictures when I started smelling something foul. As often happens on outings with a four month old, I figured that First Daughter had a messy diaper (of course, as soon as we got there) and I had left everything in the car. Since she wasn't fussing about it, I figured we would just hang on for a little longer, take a few more pictures, and then head back to the car.
I adjusted a little for a different angle of pictures.
The smell got worse.
I got up on my knees.
The smell got even worse. And it smelled closer.
It was not First Daughter.
I stood all the way up and looked down.
Oh my goodness.
I had sat in poop.
Out of all the places I could have sat down, I sat on poop?!
How'd I miss that????
Now, our photo shoot was definitely over. I was mortified. I, unlike my adorably chubby baby, could not strip down then and there and change into an extra set of clothes. I had to wear these poopy pants all the way home. And if that wasn't bad enough, my stomach sank even deeper when I realized I had to walk all the way back to our car. In public.
I picked up Daughter, with my backside facing the river trying to avoid any embarrassing sighting by passers-by, and wrapped her little blanket around my waist. It barely fit. It was one of those tiny receiving blankets. I had to stretch it as tight as it would stretch, corner to corner, and tie the tiniest knot right at my hip. I walked as confidently as I could, pretending that I had absolutely wanted to wear that blanket around my waist.
I was so embarrassed.
When we got to the car, I shimmied in as quickly as I could, trying not to be seen (or smelled) and trying not to get any poop on my car seat. I left the blanket around my waist until I got into the privacy of my home. I couldn't believe what just happened. I'm pretty sure I threw away my pants.
But hey, we got some cute fall shots.
I am a sucker for pictures of cute babies and beautiful fall colors.
Too bad all I can think of when I look at these pictures is - poop.