As much as I dream of great time saving family
organizing routines in my head the reality is most days are a scrape and grab
to get it all done. However one
“routine” I have followed staunchly since the time I went back to work is how I
get ready in the mornings. I'll spare you
all the details save for the last and most important one…the dead last thing I
do before kissing the boys and walking out the door is put my clothes on. Before anyone
runs to call CPS I am wearing
clothes, just not my wool/cashmere blend dry clean only what the f#*k
was I thinking work wardrobe. Once out
of the shower I simply put my pj’s back on…judge if you will…because kids are
dirty (at least my kid). Although we are
slowing leaving the days of spit up behind us we now have the new adventure of
banana hands and oatmeal face. I love
spending the mornings with my little dude but I have to accept his dirty
reality to avoid any undeserved chastising because he put his sweet little
sticky hand on my Ann Taylor sweater, I just remove the obstacle. Fast fwd to today’s failure…I’m guessing you
can see where this is going…indulge me anyway.
I’ve been trying to get to work early, making up some time I’ve
had to take for being sick and then M being sick. So this morning while he’s watching his Baby
Einstein DVD (again, judge if you will) I jump in the shower and for
whatever reason I think, hey he’s been doing really well and I can avoid any
major damage with a washcloth at the ready so I’ll go ahead and get dressed in
my big girl clothes. Breakfast goes
smooth as silk and now I’m just feeling cocky, as we head back to his room to
get him dressed to leave for daycare I get the whiff that this will be a full
service diaper change. No problem….
It should be mentioned here that for whatever reason this
baby DOES NOT TOLLERATE his changing table.
It’s a back arching, alligator rolling, big tear producing experience
(if any one has any tips here, please interject). So needless to say cleaning up a HUGE poop
with a squirmy kid is a dangerous proposition any day. But today, it happened…my nightmare…the
ewiest of eww… after 10 mess free months as I’m peeling the diaper away he
simultaneously yanks his little leg out of my hand and slams in down…RIGHT IN
HIS POO! My first though is “man if Mike
were home he would be pukeing right now” and that quickly morphed into GD of
course this happens when I’m in my work clothes…cause I am NEVER in my work
clothes right now! To make matters worse
my wipe supply was perilously low, so low in fact I was concerned I might not
get him clean BEFORE he fully engaged his little limbs into the fray. Somehow I managed to compose myself (although
not before yelling and scaring the baby, FAIL) and the poo gods were smiling on
me as I had just enough wipes handy that I didn’t have to carry his nasty
little self to the tub to just shower it all off…Ugg, if I never have to deal
with that again it will be too soon!
This is what happens when you break routine…lesson learned!
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