Poop in my armpit

Today I found poop in my armpit and I laughed... But that is not the funniest part. It was NOT my poop. As of recent I have made some small yet trivial decisions. Most of those decisions resolve around my daughter, my gym life and what kind of person I see myself as. If you would of asked me three years ago, my life revolved around powerlifting and obtaining a 428 squat in the 198 class. Two years ago, about how to care for not only myself but a CHD kid and a boyfriend. A year ago about how to provide for my family and myself. My point here is that situations are ever fluctuating but it matters in how you handle them. Over the past two years Michael has quieted me. Amelya has busied me... And I feel like I can never stay on top of housework, my job or my lifting. I chronically read these blogs of how I need to savor every moment with Amelya then move on where some other Mom has saved four kids from a prostution ring, made their clothes by hand for the next five years and planned their education requirements day by day in a color coded notebook with handmade origami puppets from their homeland while reading the top ten Christians women books, wearing a size 4 and her kids made A/B honor roll because she pushed the governor to pay for a special book that teaches them to read by 2. Let me pause here. I found poop in my armpit. My daughter ate a bath crayon while I tried to clean the toilet while she bathed (should of pined those damn fuzzy cleaning tabs). I had to pause three times while drying her because of a back pump from yoke carries, squats and sled pulls. I washed 4 loads of laundry, swept, mopped and blended her night meal in addition to looking for a Halloween outfit for her that is not beyond slutty and giving her meds and lastly making sure her baby was clean. Unpause. I realized tonight laughing with or at her or me or Michael is the only sanity I have anymore. No more taking advice to prevent this or that. I have kept my kid alive. She has one hole. Her stenosis has not indicated a surgical need. I have completed a meet, a 5k and a strongman comp. I have Christmas cards done and a list prepared. I still feel busy and failing. Do those who "enjoy every moment" doing it or are they busy writing about it? I look back at a group of mothers I once knew and questioned how they did it.... Be SO perfect and have time to enjoy the moment with the kids and wear a size 4 and be on top of it all... Then I realized two things. They only had five hours of moment, because otherwise they were working to pay for everything to be perfect and have that so called moment. I had that moment today. I had poop in my armpit but I also managed to keep it to myself and clean and work on my fitness... Until one of those "in the moment" blogs popped up three times on my news feed. Why do these women insist on running everyone's life telling them things that will happen soon or exactly what is so wonderful in life? What happened to your happiness? Having a kid changes things, yes but why must we savor every moment? I get those moments without making them happen with my daughter. I think it is perfectly ok as a mom to relish in your knitting, your gym lifts or hell the Internet... You won't miss that forced moment, I promise. So anyway... Back to the poop for a moment. Amelya was running crazy to hide while I drained the tub and she code browned and it was on a foam letter which she had in her hand when I picked her up to kiss her. It was funny. I actually laughed and then realized I may not have what other blogging Moms or richy rich Moms have but I have that moment and I didn't have to stop for it, it just happened.My point to all of this? Let it happen, breathe, enjoy it and when you find poop in your armpit, laugh... Not blog and plan a new one.