Thursday, May 3, 2012

My Poopy Job

Some days, I really feel as though my life revolves around excrement just a little too much. I understand that every creature has to poop, but I really wish they could do it somewhere where I am not present and where I am not responsible for cleaning it up.
We have two children in diapers, two dogs, and two cats. You can imagine what this means for me. My day usually starts out cleaning the litter box. On a good day, they have done all their business in the box. On a not-so-good day, I look in the bathtub and find that they have pooped in there, just for the fun of it. My dogs are not much better. They poop all over the yard and we have to go out in the heat and pick up the stinky piles. My stupid dog Amy sometimes starts running away with poop still stuck to her, then sits in it or steps in it or does something else fun to make herself disgustingly messy and my day miserable.
As the day goes on, my children usually take care of their stinkies. R is in disposable diapers (she refuses to wear cloth- so fun…) so it’s mostly relatively easy to change her. However, I always somehow end up with poop on my hand… E is in cloth diapers. Most days, the diaper changes are even easier than with R and I don’t mind them at all. But on very rare and special occasions, the mess is a little harder to deal with and I have to get creative. Let’s just say that I spent the last ten minutes with my hand in the toilet, swishing a diaper around…
I should really be used to it by now. I feel like I shouldn’t even mind anymore. But I do! I really, really do! Though I much prefer poop to certain other bodily excretions, e.g. vomit, I would much rather not have to deal with it anymore. It’s not what I thought I was signing up for. 
I’m a bit of a germaphobe. And sometimes, when there is poop coming out of the top of one of the children’s diaper and it’s on their clothes and on the floor and on their hands and on the toy they just touched and on my hands and just everywhere, I have a little anxiety attack and feel like crying. Not sure if this is normal, but it happens to me occasionally.
Thankfully, then there are days where you just have to laugh about it. Like when my daughter was a baby and I gave her some prunes to help her digestion. She was playing happily in her Excersaucer when I looked over and saw something running down her legs. At first, I didn’t even understand what it was. When I did, I just had to take a picture and have a good laugh

If you like laughing at stories about poop, check out this fabulously funny page:

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