life with a new baby
Randomness
The Ultimate King of ALL Mega Poops
Mar 15th
It’s been a while since I’ve talked about Nathan’s poop, mostly because I thought nothing could outdo the last poop blowout he had. It’s like I have become desensitized to all the poop that goes on around here because it’s something that happens every day. Nathan poops. I change his diaper and clean up any spillage. I gag. And I repeat the cycle the next day.
But this poop? This poop will haunt me. This poop will be in my nightmares for a long, long time to come.
See, I had put Nathan in his play yard because I needed to get some things done, and because Nathan gets into EVERYTHING, there is absolutely no way whatsoever I can leave him unsupervised with free rein of the room.
Apparently, he pooped soon after I put him in his play yard.
And this poop could not be contained by the diaper. He was wearing a two-piece pajama set, and the poop ERUPTED out of the diaper and up his back.
And for the first time, he didn’t cry to let me know he needed a new diaper.
Instead, HE ROLLED AROUND IN IT.
HE.
ROLLED.
AROUND.
IN.
IT.
My husband got to Nathan first and, bless his wonderful heart, proceeded to start the PEELING process. You know, the act of PEELING all that poop off of Nathan that had EMBEDDED ITSELF into his skin from him rolling around in it.
I walked in to help, and I was about KNOCKED OFF MY FEET by the smell.
Oh that smell. The smell of a thousand sewers mixed into one giant vat of Pure Stink. It was so noxious that I FELT MY EYEBROWS SINGE just a little. The smell was so foul that it seemed to SOLIDIFY in the air. As I walked to the changing table to help Paul, I envisioned these minuscule Poop Smell Particles floating around, invading my nostrils and covering my skin.
It smelled… thick.
I tried not to breathe.
It didn’t work. I had to breathe, so I put my shirt over my nose and mouth… but the smell still managed to penetrate my meager defenses.
There was poop all over Nathan. ALL OVER HIM. It was on his arms, his legs, his ankles, his stomach, his back, and even UNDER HIS FINGERNAILS. But that was nothing compared to what lurked in his play yard.
The play yard was GROUND ZERO.
A POOP CATASTROPHE.
A calamity of unsurpassed proportions.
There was poop on every single one of his stuffed animals. It coated every single one of his toys. It was smeared all over the floor of the play yard and a dull brown sheen coated his book and all its pages. It was even ENMESHED in the mesh-sides of the play yard.
EN-FREAKING-MESHED in it.
It was like a bomb filled with poop had exploded in the play yard, and globs of poop were strewn about all over the place.
My so-very-awesome husband cleaned and sanitized the entire play yard, all Nathan’s toys, and the changing table, which took over half an hour. (Seriously, could I have possibly ever married any one else even half as wonderful as this man? I don’t think so!) This poopage was monumental.
MONUMENTAL, FOLKS.
If only there was a diaper out there that could contain Nathan’s poops… but I don’t think they make anything strong enough.
Nathan needs INDUSTRIAL-STRENGTH diapers.
Cup Of Tea
Mar 14th
This arrived in my inbox the other day… I thought it was really funny so I just had to pass it on.
One day my mother was out and my dad was in charge of me. I was maybe 2 1/2 years old and had just recovered from an accident. Someone had given me a little ‘tea set’ as a get-well gift and it was one of my favorite toys. Daddy was in the living room engrossed in the evening news when I brought Daddy a little cup of ‘tea’, which was just water. After several cups of tea and lots of praise for such yummy tea, my Mom came home. My Dad made her wait in the living room to watch me bring him a cup of tea, because it was ‘just the cutest thing!’ My Mom waited, and sure enough, here I come down the hall with a cup of tea for Daddy and she watches him drink it up. Then she says, (as only a mother would know…)
“Did it ever occur to you that the only place she can reach to get water is the toilet?”
-Author Unknown
Unattainable Beauty
Mar 9th
We all know about this media-frenzied hype for American women to be as thin as they can possibly be, right? I personally find this “standard” to be disgusting and appalling, not only because of the negative impact it has on women’s self-esteem, but also because, get this folks, the majority of the images we see in magazines are simply NOT REAL.
The photographs have been manipulated, edited, and airbrushed. Thighs have been toned. Cellulite has been erased. Hips have been narrowed. Where are the REAL WOMEN? You know, those of us who don’t look like our bodies are DIGESTING THEMSELVES from starvation. Here is an awesome story I found with pictures detailing just how far the photo manipulations can go.
And I’m not putting uber skinny women down at all. Sometimes it’s genetic, but other times, their desire for mega-thinness is fueled by the desire to be like the models they see in magazines, on billboards, and in commercials. Take Isabelle Caro’s story, for example. She was a model who had been anorexic since she was 13 years old, weighing a mere 55 pounds in many of her photo shoots. After falling into a coma because of her weight, she has finally sought help. It’s still a long road for her, and she says it’s hard for her to get food into her stomach without her body simply wanting to reject it. But she’s finally brought herself up to over 60 pounds. (Click here to watch Isabelle tell her story to Jessica Simpson.) And speaking of Jessica Simpson, remember the brouhaha about her so-called Mom Jeans? Remember how the media called her fat? According to an interview she recently had with Oprah, SHE WAS A SIZE 4 IN THOSE MOM JEANS, Y’ALL.
A FREAKING SIZE 4.
I can’t even get my LEFT PINKIE TOE into a size 4.
Geez. Can someone say BULLIES?
So yeah, anyway, the media sets such a high standard for their version of beauty. And the media’s version DOES NOT EXIST. I’d like to see more real women… not women whose pictures have been digitally liposuctioned. Many times without the model’s knowledge!
It’s sickening. No wonder eating disorders are so prevalent in young girls. But the media isn’t going to change their definition of beauty until we the public, the people who buy their product, do something about it. If skinniness no longer equals sexy and no longer sells the product, then I can guarantee you the media will switch to another method.
Preferably, their advertisements will be more believable.
More real.
And so beauty will no longer be unattainable.
Recent Comments
I remember being a slave to separation anxiety! .-= Suzicate´s last blog ..Pinkies From Heaven =-.
There's nothing like turning something so gross and STINKY into something so unbelievably hilarious!!
Girl, you know I love the poop stories. I mean, I'm sorry they happen to you, but I do ...
Oh my gosh!! I think I would just DIE if someone did that to me lol!!