Moms have no shame

I’ve always been a modest person.  And I’ve always been a private person.  However, some of that goes right out the window when you become a mom.  This hit me afresh this week after a discussion with fellow toddler moms about our kids having a bowel movement in the potty chair.  Because, seriously, poop is a major topic of discussion among moms of little ones.  First we wonder if what our tiny baby is producing is normal.  It can be quite a variety of colors, textures and, yes, smells.  At first, my baby girl’s dirty diapers smelled like buttered popcorn to me.  Needless to say, I didn’t eat popcorn for a while.  Then it smelled just like my prenatal vitamin tasted as I swallowed it each evening while pumping and feeding her.  That made the big honking vitamin all that much harder to down without gagging.

Now as a toddler mom, my discussions with other moms fall more into the line of potty training.  My kiddo is doing pretty well with figuring things out.  I’m not sure that we have a tried and true system we’re using.  It’s more just instinct and what seems to work for her and us.  But, she is learning.  And, in spite of myself, I’m talking about it with other moms.  The first time she urinated in the potty chair, I called my mom.  My husband called his mom.  When she pottied in her chair for the first time, I left my parents a voicemail with that information.  It’s funny how that works.

I never talked about this topic much before, but I’ve found that’s par for the course with motherhood.  Things that were once taboo no longer are taboo.  I remember mentioning to a friend when I was in the hospital after having Lexiana and trying to figure out breastfeeding that I had lost count of how many people had seen my breasts and touched them.  Good grief!  A year before, I’d have been horrified.  But, at that time I didn’t care.  All I wanted was to figure things out to take care of my daughter.  (Turns out her own issue left me attached to a breast pump for a year instead of a baby, but it worked.)

And, yes, I would talk about that.  We were shopping over the weekend, looking at markers at Staples.  My husband was surprised by one marker I said I had.  “Yeah,” I responded.  “I got to to write on my breast milk bags.”  At which point, he turned red and shushed me.  He’s also modest.  I giggled.

Back in the pumping days, I got creative on pumping.  I never did so without being covered up, but I had more than a few times of pumping in the car while my husband drove, pumping in the parked car behind the movie theater, Target or a restaurant, pumping in the spare bedrooms of relatives’ houses and even pumping in the living room at my brother’s house (at the same time as my sister-in-law, actually!).  Never before in my life had I lifted my shirt so much.  And never will I again, save if we have another child.

I don’t exactly know why decorum and modesty go out the window.  I do think they return eventually.  I know my mom is the one who taught me to be modest, respectful and ladylike. Truthfully, I’m still all of those things, but I do talk with other moms about topics that were once taboo to me from poop to boobs.  It’s all a part of life, I guess.

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