Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Payback...

My mother used to tell me a story about how when I was a year old, I somehow figured out how to get into my outfit and take my diaper off, and smear the poo all over my crib and walls.  She said how she thought it was hilarious but disgusting, and how my father was sickened by it, and how she hoped to live to see the day I got repaid for such a wonderful experience.  Well she did.

Today started with 2 hours worth of waiting for a 5 minute doctor appointment.  Anyone with kids knows just how fun it is to keep 2 kids quiet and still for 2 entire hours.  The place is still standing, so I'm counting it as a win.  Let me digress for a moment to point out just how weird it really is to have old people fawn all over your baby-- while you're breastfeeding her.  I'm used to people oohing and ahhing over my kids cuz let's face it, I make some darn cute kids.  But when I'm in the middle of trying to keep my nipple in her mouth while she moves her head, all the while having old people stare and tell me how cute she is and, "oh, aren't her eyelashes so darling!" well, that's just strange.  Especially since for the first few months, your body is still figuring out how much milk to produce, so when the baby moves her head to see the wrinkly weirdos squeaking at her, you often end up spraying milk all over the baby, your clothes and maybe some passers by if they're lucky.  Next time, I'm threatening to use it as a weapon.

Back to the topic at hand, payback.  Well after we got home I put A down for a "nap".  The word is in quotations because usually his hour is spent playing quietly with the crib toy, happy to be allowed his pacifier, but rarely sleeping.  As I was walking over to place E in her play gym on the floor, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that A was now playing with a diaper.  "That's strange," I thought, "The diaper stacker is a whole 6 feet away from his crib, there's no way he could reach them, and I don't recall leaving a diaper on the dresser within his reach" (like I have done on occasion by mistake).  Five seconds, ten seconds, fifteen seconds, then BAM!  It hits me.  HE'S NOT WEARING A DIAPER!  Crap.  So I go over to see the damage wishing and hoping that it's only a pee diaper.  Have I mentioned that I have awful luck?  Well I do.  And here's more proof.  It was a poo diaper.  And there was poop smeared all over his hands, arms, shins, butt and crib rail.  AWESOME!  So into the bath we went.  These are the times I wish we had a hose.  After the bath I sprayed down the crib with the Clorox Anywhere Sanitizer, stripped his bed of sheets, blankets and Curious George, and continued on my day.  Because that's what moms do. 

It's days like this I believe motherhood should be a paid job with bonuses for good behavior.  I think I deserve a 200% pay bonus for today.  It's a shame that 200% of $0 is still $0.

[z]

“The phrase ‘working mother’ is redundant.” - Jane Sellman

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