Like any parent, I've become more intimate with my child's bodily functions than I ever would have feared. I've been pleased and amazed at how I've kicked it into parent mode upon coming into contact with someone else's pee/shit/vomit. I've been in the same bathtub with my daughter while she defecated, most notably on my first mother's day, when I thought it would be sweet to bathe together after she'd just peed on my belly.
But instead of getting immune to this, I get more grossed out every time it happens. Today I gave Anonybabe a much-needed bath in her little green plastic baby tub. She'd been allowed to crawl around in her dad's store and then up and down the front steps outside, so she was beyond filthy. She'd managed to grab a half-eaten apple with one of her grubby paws, of course grabbing it around the eaten part so that the juice of the apple picked up all the dirt on her hands and formed a grimy coating that she happily bit into before I managed to take it away, along with a bit of bagel. I plopped her into the tub with Francis, who she'd managed to throw in while my back was turned. (Are you seeing a theme here? She's too damn fast for me!) I was relieved I didn't have any poop to clean off of her before putting her in the tub.
Poor naive me. When she grunted a little and then smiled up at me with red-rimmed eyes - classic poop face - I looked for floaters, but didn't see any & figured she'd just been splashing around. Cut to a few minutes later when I finally see a sliver of brown being gently rocked to and fro in the waves of the tub. When I picked her up I found she had been sitting on a little pile of compact turds that began to swirl around. I put her in the big tub to finish her bath and tried to remember whether all of the bathwater I'd been trying to keep her from drinking had been ingested before or after poopface. She'd also successfully sucked water out of Francis's stuffed paw. I never ever vomit, but I had to really fight wretching when I emptied out the contents of her little tub into the toilet and then hosed it down in the back yard.
Fuck me, parenting is disgusting. And we haven't even gotten to emptying the wee training toilets and cleaning up the accidents yet. I think I owe my mother a "thanks for letting me shit on you" bouquet. A big one.
But instead of getting immune to this, I get more grossed out every time it happens. Today I gave Anonybabe a much-needed bath in her little green plastic baby tub. She'd been allowed to crawl around in her dad's store and then up and down the front steps outside, so she was beyond filthy. She'd managed to grab a half-eaten apple with one of her grubby paws, of course grabbing it around the eaten part so that the juice of the apple picked up all the dirt on her hands and formed a grimy coating that she happily bit into before I managed to take it away, along with a bit of bagel. I plopped her into the tub with Francis, who she'd managed to throw in while my back was turned. (Are you seeing a theme here? She's too damn fast for me!) I was relieved I didn't have any poop to clean off of her before putting her in the tub.
Poor naive me. When she grunted a little and then smiled up at me with red-rimmed eyes - classic poop face - I looked for floaters, but didn't see any & figured she'd just been splashing around. Cut to a few minutes later when I finally see a sliver of brown being gently rocked to and fro in the waves of the tub. When I picked her up I found she had been sitting on a little pile of compact turds that began to swirl around. I put her in the big tub to finish her bath and tried to remember whether all of the bathwater I'd been trying to keep her from drinking had been ingested before or after poopface. She'd also successfully sucked water out of Francis's stuffed paw. I never ever vomit, but I had to really fight wretching when I emptied out the contents of her little tub into the toilet and then hosed it down in the back yard.
Fuck me, parenting is disgusting. And we haven't even gotten to emptying the wee training toilets and cleaning up the accidents yet. I think I owe my mother a "thanks for letting me shit on you" bouquet. A big one.
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