Sometimes I write letters to Ellen DeGeneres. No particular reason. Just because I can.
Are you tired of hearing me complain about the blizzard this past weekend? Well, too bad. I’m not done yet.
The truth is, if I could’ve looked into a crystal ball and known that losing power wasn’t going to happen, the whole event would’ve been fun for me….well….almost.
In addition to stressing out about the snow and possible power loss, I also worried about my baby girl who was miserable with constipation and also had a nasty diaper rash.
I did everything I could to help her and learned the following things about my two-year-old:
- If it’s green, she won’t eat it.
- If it’s a vegetable, it might as well be green
- If it’s applesauce, she won’t eat it
- If it’s oatmeal, she won’t eat it
- If the oatmeal and applesauce are mixed together, she will eat it but only if it’s in my bowl and only if I take the first bite
- If it’s a prune, she’ll eat it but only if you cut it up into tiny pieces and call them raisins
- If it’s a raisin, she won’t eat it unless she sees her big brother eating it and then she’ll only do it to annoy him.
Basically, Ellen, if it’s high in fiber, my kid won’t eat it – which is probably why she’s so constipated.
Knowing there was nothing I could do to comfort her made me feel awful.
At night, as I put her to bed, I’d recite bedtime prayers. This is how things go on a typical night.
Me: Now I lay me down to sleep–
Baby Girl (interrupting): Amen
Me: You’re very cute but we’re not done yet.
At the conclusion of the prayers, I’d pray to Jesus that my daughter would poop and that it wouldn’t hurt when she did poop.
Why would I pray for poop? Because, Ellen, sometimes shit doesn’t happen. And let’s face it, if Jesus can turn water into wine, he can make my kid have painless poops.