Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Help. I'm Surrounded By Turds!

On September 22, 2007, I become the proud owner of a baby boy.

I signed up for the lifelong lease with the option to renew in 18 years.

Add to that a beautiful wifetobe and our 15-month old daughter and - VOILA! - you've got yourself a bonafide family in under two years time.

You know, I read somewhere that after the birth of a child, the mother releases this secret formula (estrogen? vicodin?) through her system that makes her forget the whole painful birthing process.

Fathers also have some sort of liquid that they shoot through their body to make them forget the birthing process as well - it's called alcohol.

All jokes aside, I can honestly say, if it weren't for the pictures and videos we took last year, I would hardly remember dates, times and significant events in my daughter's life last year.

I'm not sure if it's lack of sleep, lack of focus, too much focus, not paying attention to details, paying too much attention to details or just plain exhaustion, it's simply amazing how much your mind edits out the first-year of the child-rearing process.

Speaking of rearing, I totally forgot how much these little babies poop.

Just last night, in a two-hour time span, I changed my son's dirty diapers seven times - four, of which, could easily be classified as poopy.

Don't get me wrong, the poop is very miniscule compared to regular human and dog craps you see on the side of the road. From my personal perspective, the most troublesome part is the whole dance involved in the poopy-diaper changing process.

While your little one is kicking and crying (and sometimes screaming), you've got to quickly wipe ass with a wet cloth, then grab the baby wipes for further butt cleaning. Then you've got grab a towel to dry off the wetness so the baby's butt won't chaff.

In addition to that. you've got to finish all of this before he/she goes again. It's like you're in Jeff Gordon's pit crew during the final laps of an important NASCAR race. But, in this case, the ultimate prize isn't cash money - it's a mental blue ribbon for NOT GETTING PISSED ON.

It's a very stressful process. Last night, however, I finished in first place. But, who knows what's in store for my t-shirt tonight when I gear up again for my own version of Night of The Living Dead - but with diapers replacing the zombies.

On another note, as I was tossing my newborn son's dirty diapers into the Diaper Decor last night, I really got to thinking that...I'm surrounded by turds.

I wake up in the morning and, immediately, change my daughter's poopy diaper. Then I change my son's poopy diaper. Then I proceed to take a dump and wipe my bum. Finally, I take my dog on a walk to take a crap and pick up his shit with a dirty poop bag.

In case you're not keeping track, that's four different types of poop that I have to deal with on a daily basis - even before I have my cup of coffee.

Multiply that number by 100,000 when you consider my daily commute past the Cleveland sewer system.

NOTE: Technically, I don't drive past the Cleveland sewer system. But it does makes a rather nice ending to this entry doesn't it?

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