Skip to main content

Poopy Diapers and Love

A two year old can hold approximately one gallon of pee before relaxing to such an extent that pee gushes forth, cannot be contained in any one diaper, and covers approximately half the bathroom floor after soaking two-year old's clothing - sufficient cause for whining to begin.

The most likely time for the aforementioned two-year old to release gallon of pee is when Grammy is rinsing one extremely odoriferous poopy cloth diaper of one-year old brother (over which Grammy has just fought the battle of Gettysburg and is awaiting a medal of honor for winning said battle)

While two-year old whining continues (understandably, who wants to stand in a swimming pool of one's own pee in clothing soaked in pee?), Grammy  attempts to soothe two-year old and remove wet clothing (having now set aside odoriferous diaper and turned on bath fan), one-year old brother (now clean and happy) crawls into bathroom to enjoy a few splashes in the pond until vanity doors attract his attention and he opens and begins to explore contents.

Not one to be left out, dog wades into the lake and begins to lap up this new delicious water.

Grammy is now yelling, shoving dog out of the room (mindless of the pee it will track over the wood floors), picking up baby brother, soaking up an ocean with a couple of rags, drying little hands, all while speaking gentle words of comfort to two-year old now in tears.

Pop Pop to the rescue to take baby bro (bless you, Pop Pop, bless you!)

With dog and brother out of the bathroom, Grammy dries the floor, picks up the now naked two-year to complete pee-cleansing and re-dress in clean, dry clothing, but just for good measure, decides to stand up too close to corner of vanity and gets it in the back. The pain is similar to that of hitting one's thumb with a hammer, but she somehow manages to NOT drop crying two-year old and eventually remembers to breathe.

. . . and I used to live like this every day?

To all you mommas of little ones - YOU ARE AWESOME!!!! It may not feel like it, but with every little kiss, every teachable moment, every patient response, every dirty diaper, every tear wiped away, every boo-boo lovingly tended (real or imagined), you're building the adult that your sweet little wild man or lady will someday be. Your job is the most important job in the world. Don't ever think it's not. You are truly God's hands and feet and heart to the ones He has entrusted to you.

Comments

  1. See why the three stooges is still fun to watch???? *<:

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Believing the Lies

My husband and I recently watched The Help - a story about a group of African American women who worked as maids in Jackson, Mississippi in the '60s. One of the protagonists works for a woman "who got no b'ness havin' babies." This woman, this family maid and nanny, tells her little two year old ward regularly, "You is pretty. You is smart. You is impor'ant." How difficult it is for us to believe that about ourselves - really, to believe anything good about ourselves. I always try to be my raw self when I write a blog post. Today is no exception. So I confess that I've been drowning in a storm of lies lately. My head knows they're lies, and I could easily tell anyone else in the same place that they're lies, but I haven't been able to get a grip. There have been so many of them coming at me at once. It seems that I just break the surface, gulp some fresh air of truth then get pulled back under. One thing I know: the enemy of our ...

Tricia's Return (my first ICL assignment for 13-17 year olds)

I stormed down the hall and slammed the door. I’d had enough! Dumping my books out of my backpack, I began shoving in clothes – anything I could grab. I dug through the junk on the floor of my closet and found my stash – my life’s savings. I shoved it on top of my clothes. In the midst of this frenzy, I heard a soft knock on my door. "Tricia?" It was my mom. “What now?” I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice. She was just going to launch into another tirade. Her list of my shortcomings was endless, and I didn’t want to hear them anymore. I didn’t open the door; I climbed out my window, backpack in tow, grabbed my bike and took off for the bus station. Jeremy didn’t know I was coming. He’d be so surprised. I couldn’t wait to see him! We’ve been together for a year; but since his family moved to St. Louis four months ago, we haven’t seen each other. We haven’t even been able to talk much He'd made the varsity soccer team; and with all the games and practices, he hadn’t h...

Resting...Resting?

A few weeks ago, my husband and I had dinner with our daughter-in-law and two of our grand children. My daughter-in-law lost her job a couple of months ago. I wanted an update on current job prospects or plans, so I asked, "What are you doing these days?" Her answer was simple and yet incredibly profound.              Resting. (Is that even a word in the American lexicon?) I'm proud of her, and of them, for making the decision that it's time for her to rest. She's been in hyper-drive for all the years I've known her (over 16).  That word has haunted me since she spoke it. Resting. What would happen if I...if you...gave it a try?  In Psalm 23: 6a, David says Surely goodness and mercy will follow me. In K.J. Ramsey's The Lord is My   Courage (page 240), she tells us that our English word, "follow," doesn't convey the power behind the original Hebrew word that David used (radaph). She tells us that radaph means "to pursue, chase, and pers...