I had planned to do the obligatory holiday post today. (Mom bloggers are required by federal law and OSHA to do no fewer than two holiday-themed posts per year, and I'm in danger of violation). And we have plenty of Hannukah shenanigans to post about. Like having to rescue a lighter from a curious toddler's hands. And our inability to make latkes without setting off smoke alarms. And of course, the overselling of my reaction (that reaction being: "YUM!") to being "fed" holiday-themed puzzle pieces which led to LO nearly choking himself on his Hannukah present:But instead of all of that, I'm here today to talk to you about poo.
I have been feeling rather like a pile of it lately, as the young man has seen fit to both give us the head cold from hell and then commence evil teething so that he is unable to sleep at night, which of course means that we are unable to sleep at night.
J, mensch that he is, took over for the entire night Thursday night so that I could get some uninterrupted shut-eye. Sadly, I was still sleepy Friday and found myself conked out and fully clothed before it reached 8:40 in the evening. Because that's how I roll on weekends, bitches.
The upshot of all this was that I found myself awake and alert at 5 this morning with everyone else in the house happily snoozing.
LO could not let this matter stand for long and alerted me to the imminence of his need for entertainment at around 6:30. We had a grand old time until I wantonly took 20 minutes to check my email. LO was puttering around the living room, plotting his next death-defying scheme, when I noticed an unpleasant smell.
Herein lies the second reason I will be talking about poo this fine holiday season.
Now, please note that I am more than used to dealing with poo at this point. In addition to the rug rat, we also have two cats and a dog, all of whom insist on crapping with depressing regularity. In exchange for their charming presence, I (or J) get to take care of their poo and constantly have chapped and bleeding hands from all the necessary post-poo-taking-care-of washing. Poo is just part of parenting and having pets.
And yet, today LO managed to shock his non-poo-shockable mama.
After identifying said unpleasant smell, I picked up LO to begin the de-pooing process and immediately noticed that my hand came away sticky from where it touched his leg.
Once on the changing table, it became clear that LO had a very special Hannukah surprise in store for me. Poo was everywhere. And because Murphy's Law is most likely to strike when you're up to your elbows in poo, I did not discover that we were out of wet wipes until after the child was de-diapered and lounging on the changing table that he is perfectly capable of launching himself out of if you're not standing right there.
"J!!!!!!" I called. "I need help!"
True to his mensch-hood, he came quickly. I might have pretended to still be asleep had I known I was to be waking up to a pile of poo.
Between the two of us, we found another package of wipes, took care of the dirty diaper, and dunked the child into a bath because it was just that kind of morning.
But the joy did not stop there. After I had washed my hands and placed the rinsed diaper in the pail, I noticed a pile of something that I truly did not want to think about on the floor where LO had been standing just before I had smelled the foul odor.
My dear friend Ken has heard both me and our friend Erika say that dealing with poo is different when it's your child. His response has always been, "I don't know if I want there to be a person for whom dealing with poo would feel different for me. Because you can't get around the fact that shit is shit."
As I mopped up the two (2!) piles that LO had lovingly left for me on the living room floor and considered how much bleach I would need for my upcoming bath, I decided that Ken is onto something. Because it doesn't matter who made the pile of poo you're cleaning first thing in the morning on a Saturday of a holiday weekend.
On the bright side, I do think that the weekend can only go up from here.
On that note, from the SAHMnambulist family, we all wish you a happy holiday season and a joyous New Year.
If you receive any packages from LO, don't open them.
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