Being a parent isn’t all fun and games. Every stage has its benefits and challenges. A commonality seems to be that no matter what stage of life you’re in, someone is always ready to give you advice. (More context on the topic of advice to be provided in a subsequent post). Or as one person told us, “enjoy them when their young and the step on your toes before they get older and step on your heart.”
Regardless, aside from lack of sleep, the challenges that entail include changing poopie diapers, dodging up spit-up, and getting my daughter (Little Miss Potato Head, LMPH) to burp. Yeah, last night I got doused in spit-up. I mean like a tidal wave of the stuff. I really hope Shout pre-treatment is okay on Tzitzis strings. :-/ But aside from that I guess I can’t really complain. Oh, except for the poopie diaper thing; I am not a fan.
As things went, I actually got rather lucky in the diaper changing department. I think I went some 8-odd weeks without finding a poopie diaper on “my shift.” My luck, however, seems to have run out. Recently, I received the indelible gift, of not one, not two, but three poopies. I have to admit I gaged a little the first time. ( I’ve heard from “experts” that formula based poopies smell worse, and I suppose I now concur.) The constancy and color resembles deli mustard and smells kinda like bean curd gone terribly bad. Blah! (Remember that factoid next time you're eating a chili-dog with mustard. :-P)
I suppose none of this is really noteworthy, perhaps with the exception of poopie number two which will forever be noted in my mind as EPIC. I mean we’re talking a load that extended from the posterior to the upper back. Perhaps a poopie explosion might be more apt way of describing it. Front to back you say? I think not; this relief effort required up-down, left-right, and a windshield wiper like motion. Yeah… Parenthetically, I nearly ran out of wipes at the time which was rather alarming given the circumstances. Phew. Ah, the things we do for love… ;-)
As an aside, I am rather curious how no one has come up with a heter to absolve men of an obligation to change their daughter’s diapers or any diaper really. Tznius? Kavod Ha’Torah? Perhaps someone can help me out here! :-D (Just kidding :-P or not…)