My friend recently blogged a post and reminded me that life isn't always peaches and cream, and as a blogger, you should document both sides of the fence. The ups, and the downs.
Well, I agree. And, even though I feel extremely blessed to have a very easy going and decent life, there have been some downs along the way.
Take for example, a mothering task that I am just not at all fond of at the moment.
Diapering. (Warning: I like to talk about poop. So, if it grosses you out, stop reading now.)
When I am pregnant, I loathe changing poopy diapers. It can lead (and many times has) to a vomit feast for me. I have to literally cover my face with a receiving blanket, or handkerchief, like a desert bandit, during the first three months of my pregnancy while changing diapers, or I will start to gag, and then proceed to vomit.
Since I have progressed in my pregnancy, I can resist the urge. But, when poop escapes the diaper, and I have to scoop it up off the landing (like scooping cat crap off the carpet in the living room corner), I can't handle it.
This occurred yesterday.
After Grant awakes in the morning, one of the first things he does is clear his intestines to make more room for a yummy breakfast of whole wheat pancakes with peanut butter. Yesterday, however, he failed to accomplish the task before breakfast. So, I fed him breakfast, and he made a mess of his clothes.
I removed his clothes, and let him roam for a short while in his diaper. I went downstairs to check email (or what not), and heard Kalli yelling for me that she was finished going to the bathroom in the upstairs bathroom. In the meantime, Grant had meandered downstairs, and I could hear him playing with some toys in the toy room as I walked up the stairs.
Then I saw it. Two quarter sized piles of poop on the landing that had squeezed out of the sides of his diaper. Panic set in. I was scared about where more piles may have landed. (Side note: Thankfully--THANKFULLY--there were no other piles. Easy peasy, right?)
I ran back down the stairs, grabbed Grant and took him upstairs to change his diaper and put new clothes on him. All the while, being extra observant of the floor to make sure there weren't any other surprises anywhere.
As I ran past the bathroom, I asked Kalli to be patient with me and I would be in to help her after I changed the diaper. After diapering, I hurried and scooped up the poop (holding my breath the entire time and praying not to puke) and gagged the entire time. My stomach was churning. I could taste the acid coming up. I cleaned the floor, washed my hands, then helped Kalli.
And, all of this happened while I was waiting for my friend to bring her family of three over to the house so I could babysit them. Can you imagine if I had answered the door and hadn't noticed those piles on the floor. Ikes!
Moral of the story: changing diapers is definitely a downside in my life right now.
2 comments:
When my dad has to change diapers he has to put peppermint oil under his nose to dull out any other fragrances that may come his way. He obviously doesn't mind the burning of the skin contact as much as he does the smell of poo. It makes me laugh.
I'm sorry you're having a hard time with it. It's never bothered me. If I lived closer you could bring me your messy baby and I'd change him for you every time! Not much help though, is it? :P
We don't have any pets because honestly, cleaning up after kids is quite enough. It'll be funny in retrospect, but I'm sure when you were in the middle of it, it was all you could do push through it.
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