Today’s Momfession: I’ve gotten poop on my hands…on multiple occasions!
Explosive diapers are bad enough…let alone adding a wiggling, squirming small person to the mix.
It’s a fact of parenthood that you will eventually be spit up on, peed on, snotted on and yes…even pooped on.
It’s a dirty job, but a momma’s gotta do it.
The early, smelly, newborn diapers were terrifying in their own right…but now that baby is mobile and experimenting with solids, it’s an entirely new world.
Poop of odd colors, textures and odors filling the diaper, which is also soaked nearly clean through considering the juice and water she’s also drinking along with her milk.
This diaper that now weighs, what feels like, as much as my daughter is busting at the seams and the little sticky fasteners are straining at the soggy weight.
And this isn’t a diaper that’s been on far too long, no, this is what happens after each cozy, sweet trip to baby dream land.
Anyhow…where was I? Oh yea, pee and poop filled paper underwear.
So, you are picking up new Momma-approved tricks at this point to hopefully make your life a little easier. You decide to try one of said tricks by leaving one baby leg in a baby pant leg.
Well… you learn valuable lesson from said trick to make life easier: It doesn’t always make life easier.
I take one hand and I lift up a leg still dressed along with another flashing baby thigh rolls. The other…unfastens the diaper and reveals clay-like, green poo. Yay!
You would think that momma strength would prove victorious and the job would be easily completed. No…not when matched against an impatient, squirmy 20 pound, small human.
Her tiny legs quickly break loose from Momma’s one-handed grip as if they’d trained for this very moment since birth. All while the other hand is carefully and precisely working to wipe away the dirty presentation she has left me.
In an effort to catch those tiny legs and avoid the toes that are sure to end up in her mouth at some point, from entering the germy mess…the task that desperately needs finesse and concentration is brutally interrupted.
In a swift, mindless move to save baby’s feet quickly approaching a dungeon of poo…my thumb falls victim to it’s wrath.
Once I’ve regained control, the horror is made known. I complete the task while my eyes remain locked on that little bit of green goo sitting nicely on my knuckle.
A hot water-soapy scrub and I’m freed.
I guess everyone’s been there…right?