Sh*t Happens: When HUMP Day Becomes a CRAP Day

You know those cool swag bags you get when you attend conventions and trade shows? They’re awesome, right? Full of fun goodies, gadgets and gifts, mostly things you don’t need or never wanted. Last weekend I attended a national natural parenting convention and left with a swag bag so full that they had to tie the handles to keep everything in. Coming off the road and right into my workweek, I hadn’t had the chance to explore the bag, so I left it downstairs to go through at a later time.

Last night, as I was taking a mom break to Cookie Jam before bath time, my son came up to me chewing and telling me how good [whatever was in his mouth] was. Knowing that there wasn’t any accessible food, I immediately stopped Cookie Jamming, snapped to attention, and told my son to show me what he was snacking on. You’re not even going to believe this, folks. Probiotics. My son was gobbling down probiotics like they were potato chips (or some other illicit food).

There in the room, next to the now swag bag from hell, sat a bottle of probiotics, lid off, seal and cotton packing removed. First question: how many did you eat, Declan? He raised two plump toddler fingers and responded, “Two.” Since “two” is the automatic response to every numbered question he’s asked, I asked again. This time Declan outstretched his nubby hand, proffering ALL of his fingers, “five” he said, with a proud smile on his face.

My heart dropped to my stomach and I did what any mother in that situation would do – I called my husband on his commute home. Thankfully he was right around the corner, and he promised to sort it out when he got home.

I took Declan into the bath and had a long conversation about medicine, while my husband began making phone calls downstairs. The probiotic company was kind enough to say they’d leave a message for someone to respond to tomorrow, but other than that, they had no advice. Poison control was the next call, and their advice was to give Declan a snack and a drink.

By this time, I had finished with Declan’s bath (not even a probiotic overdose can disrupt our bedtime routine), I came back down to discover that my husband, wits about him, had counted the remaining pills to see how many had actually been consumed. Are you ready for this, my friends? SIX. My son ate six probiotics in one sitting (the daily dosage is ONE for an adult). My husband gave me a look that said everything, but mostly it said, “Good luck tomorrow, dear!”

P.S. We both survived. Declan’s colon is squeaky-clean, and he’s likely a pound or so lighter, but we live to tell the tale…