If you don’t have children, this might come as a shock, but parenthood is less glamor and more goo. I’d say it isn’t an institution for the weak, but in all honesty, thanks to the boundless and undying love you’ll have for your child, you become a bit desensitized to even the worst leakage, seepage, and outright explosions that your biologic successors are capable of producing- surprising though they may be.
I regaled you a while back about how I was holding Mini-Me a while back and he decided to ralph up a good amount, which ran down the back of my shirt and into my underwear.
Last night, he woke up around 4:30am. He’s getting better at sleeping through the night, but occasionally will wake up and need to be put back to sleep.
I hear him cry a bit over the monitor, and got up to go in with him. He’s standing in the dark, waiting for me.
“Hey bud, what’s the matter?” I reached down to pick him up and am immediately met by some unseen wetness on his arm.
“Oh no, you’re soaked. Did you pee?”
“No. I not wet.” Sure enough, his pajama pants were dry. What the….Oh. Oh no. Not again.
I picked him up, stripped the shirt off of him, placed him on the futon, and flicked on the light to see a good portion of his dinner reincarnated onto his bed sheet, as well as a Mickey Mouse stuffed animal. I stripped him, changed him, pulled the bedsheet, and lay with him on the futon.
“Dayee? A Ceen? (Clean)”
“Yeah. you’re clean.”
“Its okay little guy, does your tummy hurt?”
“Okay, lay with daddy, get some more sleep.”
I don’t think he ever actually went back to sleep. He dozed for a while, but never got a good amount of shut-eye after that. I know this because somewhere around 5am, while I think he’s out- I sneezed. From the dark, a tiny little voice pipes up: “Bess you.”
Right around then I realized that while I cleaned him up, I hadn’t washed my hands after coming in contact with the vom. This is where the parental numbness comes in. Rather than dump the little sicko down and rush off to the bathroom, I said “Eh” – and tried to get some rest. Gross? Yeah. But let’s face it- from the second you decide to HAVE kids, ‘gross’ is a part of your life for a very long time, and you get used to it. Poop, pee, puke, and other unnamed and inexplicable things become as second nature you as brushing teeth or having lunch.
So now I’m at work, my day having started at 4:30am with some vomit, which is bad enough. My wife’s day has taken a horrible turn, because apparently not only has the little guy barfed twice more….but so did the cat.
If something good is going to happen to balance out what today has started off as, it’s gonna be REAL good.