• J Mess


It's a daily doody dilemma.

Adulting is hard. The older I get the more I sometimes long for a time when someone else was responsible for the annoying stuff and I was only required to be cute and have fun. Which kinda sounds like my weekends before I was married. But no more. I fondly remember kindergarten where there was snack time and nap time. Which kinda sounds like my current everyday, except also housework, cooking, taxes, bills, things that are broken, gutters, insurance, garbage, open permits, and other assorted adult burdens. Must be fun to be a kid whose only responsibilities are eating, sleeping, and pooping.

My son is exceptional at those big 3. And if you think about it, when you're 1 year old, they comprise pretty much more than half of your existence, so basically my child is a scholar. The three are tied together, cyclical, and fill my mornings with dread. He eats dinner, goes to sleep, and wakes up completely covered in poop. Wipe, scrub, wash everything, rinse, and repeat. What. the. bloody. hell.

We couldn't figure out why Nathan keeps saying "Ohshee, ohshee." Then one morning I walked into his room, saw poop everywhere and said "Oh SHIT." Now I know.

Ever since we stopped using formula, Nathan eats like a beast. When he sees food, I didn't think it was possible for a human to open his mouth wider. He's like Pac-man. A non-stop eating machine. And well, all that food has to go somewhere. What goes in, must come out. But I am really at a loss here. I cut back on giving him so many fiber-filled berries before bed. I put him in a bigger sized overnight diaper. I talked to him about personal poopy hygiene. Besides wrapping his lower half in saran like leftovers, I'm unsure how to keep the poop inside his diaper. There's. just. so. much. poop.

Part of the problem is that he's such a good kid. That sounds weird right? He's an amazing sleeper who rarely gets up before 7am. And when he does, he'll amuse himself in his crib by reading a book or talking or humming to himself. Or sometimes even falling back asleep. Magical right? However, at some point during this extended conversation with himself, he'll go to the bathroom... in his pants. Then just carry on like nothing happened. Roll around. Hang out.

Some mornings I know he's awake, but I'm tired so I'll try to go back to sleep. Or I'll lay in bed and look at my phone. All the while fully knowing the gamble I'm making that every minute I leave him in there means a greater chance I'll be cleaning up shit. It's like every morning I make a bargain with Rumpelstiltskin... I can sleep until 8:30 and clean up shit, or I can get up at 7, be shit free, but spend an extra 90 minutes entertaining a toddler. Magic always comes with a price you know.

I can't do this anymore. Is there any way I can exchange him for a less shitty model?

So what would you do? Take the extra 90 minutes of alone time and just hope for the best? It's a shitty proposition. Last weekend we chose the extra time and cleaned up shit BOTH days. Damn you Rumple! You'd think after Saturday we would have been a little more prudent on Sunday. But alas, it seems we have still not learned our lesson. Now every morning I lay in bed and stare at the baby monitor with one eye open trying to spy poop and decide how long I can comfortably stay in bed before... OHSHEE! Being an adult sucks...


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