the more i’m home during the summer, the more opportunities i have to be out and about, mixing with the general population. the more i’m mixing, the more i realize that old people are crazy. and not funny crazy, but that other one.

i have two examples in mind. i could go into others, but i’ll leave that conversation about my parents out of it. ha, ha. the other day tony and i were driving down morgan ford. now mind you, anything, and i do mean ANYTHING is possible on morgan ford. it’s a little sketchy in places and the locals are serbian/bosnian/croatian immigrants, for the most part. i’ve seen a lot of stores with “mesnica” on the window and i’m still not sure what that means. by the looks of the storefronts, littered with any variety of wifebeater eurotrash, it’s a little hard to tell.

but i digress. further down the street, overlooking the fair river des peres is an apartment building. while stopped at a light, we couldn’t help notice this old woman sitting in front of the large picture window. she was having a rather animated discussion with the boy sitting next to her on the couch. now, mind you, this is no ordinary boy. it was a doll. more specifically, it was a dummy. creepy eyes and all. she was twisting its head and scooting its body so it could watch the traffic with her. “now jimmy, you got it all wrong. if you sits thataway, you’ll never be able to see the stop light. here. let me get you moved over. there you go! all better.” i could just see her convincing this dummy that he was all wrong (of course!) and she knew the way to get the best view. kids these days, always thinking they know better. ha!

the light changed green and we tore ourselves away, on our way to costco.

when i became a mother, i knew i’d be in for some gross encounters. snot, projectile vomit, dirty skin folds, all up there on the list of yuck. the one thing i guess i didn’t count so much on was the other end of things.

poop. helping ella give birth to her poops was not something i had looked forward to, at all. i’ve had fourteen months of training, many on-site practicums, and a 100% satisfaction rate. i’m not sure if there’s a certificate or not. probably not something that’s really advertised amongst the mommy set.

part of the reason i’ve become a midwife is because ella’s a bit on the constipated side lately. she goes through these phases where she’ll go DAYS without pooping. the last time was when daddy brought home twelve pounds of bananas from sam’s because they were only a dollar. a banana every morning for a week wound up being a bad idea. i’m not sure what the cause was this time, but i was hoping today was the day. the excitement of the birth was in the air. we had several false alarms yesterday: grunting, red face, but nothing to show for it. as with most births, it came when it was least expected and most inconvenient. on a walk with the dog, a good mile or two from home, without an extra diaper or wipes in sight.

we were on the playground enjoying the swing. then we walked around a bit. suddenly it struck. there was more red faced grunting, but this time the poopy cry turned into poopy screams of pain. poor baby. she cried and grunted, grunted and cried. there wasn’t much i could do for her in the park. i held her while she bunched up into a cannonball position, digging her fingers into my arms, clinging for dear life. i was torn. do i put her on the ground and check her diaper? then what? let her cry some more? why is she screaming so much? as with any emergency, the immediate need and want is to get HOME. so i belted my screaming ball of baby back into her stroller, rustled up the dog, and trucked it home.

sweating, arm aching from holding ella the last half mile of the trek, i one-arm lugged the world’s heaviest stroller up the steps and kicked open the door. my whimpering charge seemed still in obvious pain, so my midwifery training set in and i ripped open the diaper to see my baby’s nemesis: a crowning ball of poop. it had been hanging out there since the park, poor kid. so with a little help from the midwife (me), she was able to successfully pass the plum-sized ball of torture. after that she sighed and reached for me. we hugged, celebrated our teamwork, then she promptly fell into an exhausted sleep.

she’s still napping now. all that work really takes it out of you. while she’s sleeping it off, i’m making a grocery list of bowel-friendly foods: prunes, raisins, bran flakes….all this and more can be yours just for being a poop midwife.