So Far, A Shitty Week. Literally.
Suddenly, the Maddening Issues of the Day are all poo-related.
First: SweetBabyGirl had a poopy pull-up on Monday--we're making progress (in fits and starts) on potty training (or, as the book calls it, Toilet Learning. Whatever.) but the poopy thing is coming along slowly. So I pick her up and head to the changing table and she shoves her hand down the back of the pull-up and comes up with a hand smeared with shit. Lots of arm-waving and "EW!" ensue from the child so I carry her ASAP to the bathroom and get her hand washed. Back to the changing table and, en route, she does it again. So, back to the sink but amid all the arm-waving she smeared shit across my NOSE. My nose.
I think I deserve huge mom points for washing her hand first before I washed my nose, but, seriously, EW. And I was gagging, muttering "Holy, crap, child, that's my NOSE, that's what I SMELL WITH" and so forth while the child got kind of solemn and thoughtful.
I guess I'll find out soon whether she decided whether it's worth doing again.
Second: Yesterday was rough, with the child in a cheerful, busy and oppositional mood. Emptied the (by now, packed full) diaper pail with the intent of carrying it to the trash on our way to the park (where, as it happens, I didn't tire out the child because we left early when she insisted on throwing rocks after the Don't Throw Rocks Lecture) but got distracted amid all the confusion. Well, the child eventually fell asleep, after another errand (and where she threw a mini-tantrum, refusing to go the car and then going boneless when I insisted).
And so, I carry a blessedly sleeping child into the house only to find the bag ripped open, the floor of her room strewn with diapers, with the poopy ones having received special attention that I won't even describe here because I'll gag just from the writing of it. The dogs, of course, are doing their best to look innocent and apologetic at the same time (which isn't too hard for basset hounds). Sleeping Beauty goes on the bed, the dogs go outside with a few hissed commands and curses and and I complete hasty and quiet roundup of the disgusting stuff. When I'm washing my hands and brooding about how there are few things more disgusting than having shit under one's fingernails (ie. the nose smear) and thinking, so this is my chance to take a nap? Can I manage to get to sleep?
Hell yeah.
So now, it's Thursday morning and my precious, sweet girl is now in the throes of the terrible twos. Last night, she kicked Daddy on the changing table and we said, no stories before bedtime if you kick people. She didn't kick again, but when we got out the story books she said nope and got right into bed. Does this mean that she's willing to do without stories if she gets to kick people at will? If so, then what's my leverage in the future?
First: SweetBabyGirl had a poopy pull-up on Monday--we're making progress (in fits and starts) on potty training (or, as the book calls it, Toilet Learning. Whatever.) but the poopy thing is coming along slowly. So I pick her up and head to the changing table and she shoves her hand down the back of the pull-up and comes up with a hand smeared with shit. Lots of arm-waving and "EW!" ensue from the child so I carry her ASAP to the bathroom and get her hand washed. Back to the changing table and, en route, she does it again. So, back to the sink but amid all the arm-waving she smeared shit across my NOSE. My nose.
I think I deserve huge mom points for washing her hand first before I washed my nose, but, seriously, EW. And I was gagging, muttering "Holy, crap, child, that's my NOSE, that's what I SMELL WITH" and so forth while the child got kind of solemn and thoughtful.
I guess I'll find out soon whether she decided whether it's worth doing again.
Second: Yesterday was rough, with the child in a cheerful, busy and oppositional mood. Emptied the (by now, packed full) diaper pail with the intent of carrying it to the trash on our way to the park (where, as it happens, I didn't tire out the child because we left early when she insisted on throwing rocks after the Don't Throw Rocks Lecture) but got distracted amid all the confusion. Well, the child eventually fell asleep, after another errand (and where she threw a mini-tantrum, refusing to go the car and then going boneless when I insisted).
And so, I carry a blessedly sleeping child into the house only to find the bag ripped open, the floor of her room strewn with diapers, with the poopy ones having received special attention that I won't even describe here because I'll gag just from the writing of it. The dogs, of course, are doing their best to look innocent and apologetic at the same time (which isn't too hard for basset hounds). Sleeping Beauty goes on the bed, the dogs go outside with a few hissed commands and curses and and I complete hasty and quiet roundup of the disgusting stuff. When I'm washing my hands and brooding about how there are few things more disgusting than having shit under one's fingernails (ie. the nose smear) and thinking, so this is my chance to take a nap? Can I manage to get to sleep?
Hell yeah.
So now, it's Thursday morning and my precious, sweet girl is now in the throes of the terrible twos. Last night, she kicked Daddy on the changing table and we said, no stories before bedtime if you kick people. She didn't kick again, but when we got out the story books she said nope and got right into bed. Does this mean that she's willing to do without stories if she gets to kick people at will? If so, then what's my leverage in the future?
posted by jwoods at 6:41 AM
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