“Parenting is not for sissies.”
– Jillian Michaels
Thank you to all of you wonderful parents who sent me messages letting me know my reaction to Kiddo’s illness was natural and normal. It means a lot.
The hubby and I are now 9 weeks into parenting, and our household is finally establishing some routine. Yet as my spouse will attest, we had to go through a lot of crap just to get here — literally.
For you see, the morning after Kiddo came down with the flu, I was scheduled to get my hair cut.
“Should I cancel?” I asked my husband.
“No,” he lovingly said, “I know how much you’ve been looking forward to this, and I don’t have to be to work for several hours yet.”
So, off I went, leaving my spouse tend to our sick kid.
An hour later, I was back in my car just about to send a text to my husband to let him know I was on my way home.
As I picked up my phone I saw there was already a message from him.
“I am up to my ears in shit,” my phone screen read followed by an emoji of a pile of poop.
I could only guess what that meant, and I began to laugh out loud.
For you see just as vomit is my nemesis, my husband Steve freaks out from fecal matter.
“I felt the little one hanging on my leg” he told me when I got home, “so I picked ‘them’ up then smelled an awful stench. That’s when I knew Kiddo crapped their pants.”
I bit my lip to prevent myself from cracking up.
“Oh, you haven’t even heard the half of it,” my husband grimaced. “So I figured the best thing to do was to throw Kiddo in the shower and hose ‘them’ off, right? Not only was there crap everywhere, shit was dropping in the tub!”
I broke into hysterics
“So then when I finally get everything cleaned up,” my husband said, “I round the corner and nearly step on a turd.”
I was dying laughing now.
“The only thing I can figure,” my husband said, “is that Kiddo must have been knowingly shaking out ‘their’ shorts when a deuce dropped out on the floor.”
(Even as I write this I am roaring . . . I shit you not.)
(Part 3 coming soon)