Don't all new parents love to talk about poop? Well, I'll tell you the truth. I didn't love this poop. One nice thing about all the solid-food eating is the nice, solid poops that go along with it. Ellie has been feeling kind of yucky (join the club) and hasn't eaten much solid food today. I have been pretty cavalier about this. She doesn't seem too sick, isn't too feverish, etc. Toddlers self-regulate. She'll eat when she's hungry.
I heard her wake up and fuss after her nap earlier, but I ignored it for a few minutes while I woke up myself and got a drink (water! I swear!). She didn't sound like she was going to go back to sleep, so I went in to get her. The minute I hit the doorway, I knew I was in for a treat.
When she was a wee one, we had instances of those classic breastfed poops refusing to be constrained by the dappi (diaper cover) and oozing their way out onto her pajamas and occasionally even the sheets. Well, she's bigger now. And she moves around.
Nasty nasty nasty. Her entire outfit (including shoes!). Her hair. Her body. The toys in the crib. The sheet. The mattress pad. Then: the changing table cover and the extra cloth diapers used to help absorb things. She was one crabby little girl by the time I had her thoroughly wiped off and dressed in clean clothes. This is one glamorous job, I tell ya!
If there was a way to capture the pure essence of a moment - the sight, the smell, the need to drop everything to caringly and rapidly fix what's wrong immediately - I'd love to bottle this one up. I'd carry it around with me and spring it on the unsuspecting jerks who refer to maternity leave as a "paid vacation". And that's not even getting into the "paid" part. I'd also save a little for the thoughtless few who ask me what I do all day or suggest that I take over some major responsibility of theirs since I "don't work." I get less of that now. I guess 12 hours a week is just enough paid-work to make people feel like I'm contributing to society again.
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3 comments:
Reading this entry was so funny to me...I started out with a gasp and "oh no", then I started giggling to myself and finally, at the end, I was waving my 'take that' fist in the air! GREAT post.
oooohhhh, the poop.
When the Girl was a baby, I was changing a totally stinky one once and saying, "Wooh! You are stiiinky!" From the other room, the Boy heard and came to her defense: "Don't say that! She's not stinky!" To which I replied, "Come in here and say that!" Him, coming into the hall: "She's not stinky!" "Come in here and say that." From the doorway: "She's not stinky!" "Come in here and say that." "She's not--ew! Yep, she's stinky."
When I was a teacher, I worked with a man who taught biology and he and his wife had no children. During college, he cleaned up bedpans, and well, you know what he does as a biology teacher. Nothing bothered the man...except watching a baby/toddler eat and then the aftermath. He believed that children should be hosed off. And there were occasions, such as the one you described, where I agreed. I have hosed down the girls many times when there just was no other way. Good luck in hosing down Ellie from time to time! And just remember, no matter how bad the diaper is, it's easier than watching them cross the street, walk to school etc.
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