The shart that shook the earth


I knew I needed to give this blog a title worthy of a Hollywood Blockbuster after the events of the day…

The day the Shart stood still

Return of the Living Sharts

Forrest Shart

Three men and a little Shart

The Shart who shagged me

Ok- maybe not that last one.

Today… the shart to end all sharts occurred… and I fear I may never be the same.

We are at the tail end of potty training Parker. It’s gotten nearly to the point where I don’t have to worry about reminding him to use the bathroom, because he will tell me before he messes himself. It is a blissful existence.
Even his poops are predictable, as he is typically a once-a-dayer, right after breakfast, without fail.

Today my brother came over during lunch and brought Preston with him (my 3 year old nephew whom I used to babysit). I am used to how the boys interact at this point. They run in circles, screaming, for hours on end… usually one of them ends up crying and coming to me about how one or the other shoved, pushed, hit, or was mean to them.

It gets to the point where if you don’t just learn to tune out the madness, you will lose your mind.

This happened today. I heard Parker doing his usual “i’m crying because they took my toy away” whine and gave it no attention, because coddling him just makes him even more of a needy little monster.
I was sitting on the floor, minding the computer, my brother on the couch reading a book, when Parker came over to me in hysterics. Figuring he had just bumped his head, I gave him a kiss, because we all know Mommy kisses make even the worst boo-boo all better… but he didn’t calm down like he usually does. Instead he screamed even louder, reaching around to his butt.
One thing I will not do is kiss a butt boo-boo, no matter how much my kids beg me to. I’ve never been an ass kisser and I most certainly won’t start now!

When the crying continued, I started my normal round of questions to figure out what is wrong.
Did you get hurt?
Did you get hit?
Did someone push you down?

All of these questions received a shaking of the head in return. Finally I asked if he needed to take a doodoo- this question got a violent nod- and I could tell at that point that he was clenching his cheeks as hard as he possibly could, so he REALLY needed to go; and when he really needs to go, I scoop him up and run him to the bathroom as fast as I can in order to avoid dropping turds all over the floor because he just can’t hold it anymore.

Unfortunately, this time I was too late. When I reached around to his butt to scoop him up and start my mad dash to the bathroom, I was greeted by a very wet and warm sensation covering the entirety of my hand.


My brother finally looks up from his book.

“You’d better run, it’s seeping down his legs and into his socks!”

That’s right, the most evil of all toddler shit- liquid bowels.

Ever since my gag reflex took a hike, I have begun panicking at the sheer thought of toddler crap… and that is what I did this time. My hand was already saturated in it- so there was no turning back for me. I dug in and scooped him up, holding him a good foot out from me so my clothes didn’t get the brown treatment as well- and started to run. That wasn’t the only thing running if you get my drift.

It wasn’t hard for me to figure out what had occurred, considering in order to get Parker to the bathroom I had to step over and through the largest trail of liquid crap I have ever seen in my life.


OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!

OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have seen a lot of shit accidents in my day, but this one took the cake.

My brother must have thought someone had died, because he jumped from the couch and came running into the other room asking what had happened… only to find me hunched over Parker who was screaming hysterically, surrounded by lakes of fecal matter.

I was frozen. I had no idea what to do. He was completely soaked, the floor covered… there was just no way to win!

My brother told me to take him outside and hose him down and throw the clothes away- but I feared that if I moved the poo would leak on me and I would instantly collapse on the floor vomiting on myself… and that is not a mess of bodily fluid that I ever want to clean up!

The only thing I could do was to take his advice. Amid gags and wretches, I dragged Parker outside, still holding him away from me, and made him stand in the grass while I sprayed him with water and stripped him naked…. Only to look up and see about 100 elementary school children staring at me like Parker and I were a 3 ring circus where the Lion ate the tamer.

You see, right outside our back fence is the field behind the local elementary school. Today was the first day of school. The kids just so happened to be out at recess during this debacle.
They certainly had an interesting “first day of school” story to tell their parents when they got home today!

Once I finally got Parker hosed down, dried off, and back inside (where he unleashed another liquid shit into his potty), cleaned up the mess on the floor (I have to admit that my brother did the majority of it, but still left some doo streaks behind) I sat down… still reeling from the experience.
It was then that my friend made a comment to me about how Parker must have felt like he had to fart and instead shat himself…. and I lost it.

Hysterical laughter at the expense of my child- isn’t that what being a mommy is all about?

There I was, picturing Parker attempting to let loose a little toot when a stream of hot crap came out instead. Judging by the trail he left, he attempted to run to the bathroom, couldn’t figure out how to get his underwear down, and then ran back through the kitchen to get to me… where he stood next to me grabbing his ass like it had just fallen out.

Shart of the year. Shart of the century! SHART OF THE MILLENIA!

I already know I will have little piles of poop dancing like sugar plums in my head tonight- definitely not the dream I wanted to be having- but such is the life of a mom.

Other than that- a good day! The Facebook referral contest started today to win a copy of my book for FREE before anyone else can buy it, and it’s going well! Welcome all you new readers, I hope this didn’t horrify you too much… just a little is what I strive for.
If you want to- you can still join in on the contest- read last night’s blog for the details- and go to my Facebook Fanpage here and start referring your friends, family, and estranged cousins!

Posted on September 6, 2011 by Holdin' Holden 16 Comments
Holdin' Holden

About Holdin' Holden



  • I really should not be laughing at my grandson’s horrible shart experience but I did. You write so well I could almost see it happening. I swear your book will sell millions.

  • i laugh because I’ve been in similar situations..

  • Great blog. I am a mommy blogger myself. I gave you a follow on all your social media platforms.

    Julie from Just Jules

  • Mommy bloggers unite!

  • Oh my goodness, I can’t help but laugh. I havnt been in that situation yet but I am sure my time is coming very quickly once Logan starts potty training.

  • I think my baby thinks I’m nuts. Not supposed to happen until she starts school. I laughed so hard I cried.

  • My son was well along the path to potty training when he decided he didn’t really want to use the potty so much as . . . the closet.


    I salute your management of this unfortunate shart incident. πŸ™‚

  • I cried too. Only not from laughing πŸ˜‰

  • OMG, this was a hysterical post!!!!

  • OMG!! That was hysterical and reminded of the time a child threw up at the dinner table and it was still there when her father got home cuz .. you guessed it .. I got sick and the other kids all scattered!!

  • Reminds me of the time when I only had one of my eventual SIX children. Oldest #1 son had a shart…in a restaurant…in the borrowed high chair…that went undiscovered until his father picked him up, rested the warm wet rear end on his forearm and carried him outside. Never one for paying attention, the man didn’t discover the warm muck running down his arm until we were out of the restaurant, on the way to the car, and the brown river began to run down to into his hand. It was a LONG ass drive home.

    There is a reason the kid’s dad is my ex…and being a total shit sponge in more ways than one about covers the why.

  • Oh man….I nearly shat myself reading this!!! Classic. It wasn’t long ago my 5 year old experienced his first case of post potty training diarrhea. The mess was at least contained to the bathroom but it was a horrific experience for the kid! I cried and gagged as I cleaned up the mess but laugh at the while thing now. He leaned a very important lesson that night…never trust a fart!!!

  • Ooooh, your shart story is a classic ~ thanks for the shits & giggles! πŸ˜‰
    I was staying with the 2 grands a while ago when my daughter/SonInLaw went 2000 miles away for 9 nights [read: too far to hop on a plane and come home]. Day One happily went by without a hitch as I foolishly thought that I’d cruise through this stint no problem.
    On Day Two after dropping off/picking up the 5 year old from school on time, and even surviving the ‘where the heck are your tap shoes?’ dance class, gave me a false sense of thinking this was going to be a snap… Wrong! While in the drive-thru line up for a well-deserved cup of coffee I heard a strange gurgling sound coming from the baby’s carseat. Wearing my smug ‘I’ve SOOO got this under control’ look I casually turned to see what was up, and thought gee,, baby is burping. My realization quickly escalated to ‘baby is spitting up’, then ‘wow… she’s REALLY spitting up’, to a full blown “OMG, SHE’S CHOKING/DROWNING IN VOMIT” which by now was pooling on her chest to halfway up her face ~ Ack!!
    After jamming the car into park I ran like a drunken monkey around to the other side of the car, slipping twice on my ass as the drive thru was covered in slick ice, the whole time schreecing like a Banshee!
    When I got there baby was gurgling and vomit was coming out of her nose. Seeing that she couldn’t breathe I did the only thing that came to mind when stress turns us into idiots… I unsnapped her carseat belts then held her upside down shaking her beside the car so the puke could drain off of her clothes and out of her mouth. It was only after things settled down a bit, and I’d waived on the people lined up behind us (who I’m sure were convinced I was insane and were probably on the phone to CPS!) to go around us, did I notice that my long, black leather coat was also covered in the white spew.
    My sweet grandbaby vomited violently 7 more times that night. I spent the next 3 days (and long nights) wiping up the totally fluid sharts that were so forceful they almost blew holes in her diapers… the poor kid. πŸ™ For 3 days I had stacks of clothes and extra dipes n wipes situated strategically all over the house.
    I’ve never done so much laundry trying to keep up. πŸ™
    I remember thinking around Day Five, ‘Man, this is the WORST!’ hehe… Well, I HEXED myself for sure because I did SO MUCH laundry and bathing baby that I backed up their out-of-town septic system which flooded their 4000 sq ft basement. Just what I needed at that point ~ another nasty mess to clean up! πŸ˜›
    I was never so happy to go home and drop after the 9 day Shartfest was over ~ Whew! Everything I owned was covered in vomit, shart or sewage…. good times.

  • HOLY SHIT! I mean REALLY, holy shit! *passes drink and a piece of cheesecake* you deserve one of each every single day for getting through that!

  • Absolutely hilarious! I could picture the whole experience. I laughed so hard, I cried. Thanks for the laughs!

  • OH MY GOD!!! I almost sharted myself laughing so hard reading this! Been there, done that (many years ago!), but it didn’t seem anywhere NEAR as funny as it does reading about it! Thank you for sharing!