I've been changing diapers every day of my life now for nearly six years. That is an absurd amount of time dealing with poop that I'll never, ever get back.
I've dealt with poop of many colors, consistencies and textures in all it's glorious forms and fragrance. Tonight however, I was pushed clean over the edge.
I've been trying, to no avail, to potty-train my youngest child, in hopes of never having to do diaper duty again. After this evening, I'm happy to change diapers for a bit longer. My eldest child, long potty trained, enjoys various activities whilst doing his business. Though maddening, I can't necessarily fault him for this as I've been known to take longer than necessary doing my thing because it's about the only reading time I get anymore. He sings, he talks, and unfortunately he wiggles. Tonight I hear:
Mom, I have a clean up problem.
A what? How did you . . .? Matt! Ethan needs you!
Oh good heavens, what have we here? Somehow he managed to get poop all over the toilet seat, down the side of the bowl and on the bottom of his feet. Then he proceeded to step on his pants and the rug before his father stopped him. Yes, his father. I wimped out and called in the reinforcements. You see, I'd changed three poops on the three year old in the space of three hours today and was not prepared for what I saw when I walked in that bathroom. So, I turned around, walked out, and sent in his father. Had I not done so, I would simply have lost it. Besides, Matt's leaving for 8 days and needed something to remember his son by.
3 comments:
You crack me up, Jen. I'm pretty sure Rob cleaned up a lot more poop than me when the kids were younger. I can barely stand it. So glad to be past that stage!
I am particularly fond of the way you use the word "whilst." It's one of my favorites, too.
So sorry about the poop. Somehow it's worse when it comes from someone you're not used to cleaning up.
Ew.
I am not responsible for aim training in our house because, well, I don't have anything to aim. As a result, I am also not responsible for cleaning the toilets. Any of them. Ever. If CPod cannot manage to teach his progeny how to use their body parts to create minimal mess in the bathroom, he can deal with the aftermath. Yay for daddies!
InkMom, does he do with without being asked--several times? Can you have Cpod talk with Matt? As readily as Matt may accept such a responsibility, his tolerance is waaaayyyy too high. The bathroom would have to be crawling with pink mold and smelling pungently of some serious urea for some length of time before he'd think hmmm, maybe it needs cleaning. And I'm a terrible nagger, I prefer passive agression and sulking.
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