I Am SO Underpaid

Okay, first... this is not about my job at the library. Library job = great. Good pay, good benefits, and pretty decent hours, considering it includes nights and weekends. I am NOT complaining about that job.

Next, there is some mention of disgusting body functions in this particular post. I am just giving you fair warning in case that sort of thing offends you or grosses you out. Once you have squeezed a baby out of your nethers, you really become quite hard to gross out.

However, it IS possible...

Chris is playing hockey tonight. He has an 8pm game in Garner, which is really early for him. Normally, an early game is 9:15. So we pounded through dinner (loaded, large baked potatoes), and he quickly did the dishes (bless him) then darted out the door to drive across town. This left Athena and me alone together. And I was pretty darned excited about that.

Chris gets Athena all to himself one night a week - usually Thursdays - because I work. He feeds her, bathes her, diapers her, and dresses her, and then entertains her until she drops off to bed - around 8pm.

So tonight, it's my turn. I've done this a few times before, but it's so rare and I really do enjoy it. It's hard work wrangling her and keeping her on task, but it's so rewarding, and fun too! However, tonight, apparently, the powers that be thought tonight was a good night for some practical jokes.

First, I should start off by saying that I am not feeling well lately. I'm having all sorts of stomach issues, and I generally don't want to move much as it makes me feel sick. That said, when Chris left, it was bath time. I plunked Athena into the tepid water (hey, it's 804 degrees here, tepid felt pretty good...) and we were having a great time hiding behind the washcloth and dumping water out of the tub onto my feet. Normal bath activities. And then, for the fourth time in her life (third with me, mind you), she pooped in the tub. And I'm not talking a little dainty lady-like poop. This would have completely filled even the sturdiest of diapers.

So, I snatch her out of the tepid, filthy water and hastily dry her off. I rush her to the changing table to get a diaper on her as fast as possible in case there was more to come (there wasn't) and I plopped her on the floor of her nursery to play with her books while I cleaned out the tub.

Now, I have changed many a diaper, and that's no pleasant task. But I would gladly take 40 dirty diapers over one pooped-in tub. I have cleaned up dog poop for 13 years, and that cannot compare to cleaning poop out of a tub. It is really, truly, gross. It's watery and it breaks up into little pieces that get everywhere, and you really don't want to hear this, do you?

Now that the tub is disinfected and I have somewhat recovered (still feeling a bit vomity, but I made it through), I go get Athena, who hands me a book to read. We sit on the couch and I start to read. She then realizes that she has handed me a book that she doesn't really like very much (Five Little Monkeys) and she wants to get down. So she leans against my upper arm to let herself down (something we do almost all the time), and I guess she put a little too much pressure on her full little belly. Soon, we were both covered head to toe in baked potato, cheese, and bacon. And it looked surprisingly similar to what it had looked like on her plate only an hour ago.

So I change my shirt and wipe her down, and we play for a while longer and it's time for bed and I am so happy to be able to sit upright and motionless. But I have to go to the bathroom. So I do... and I discover just a little too late that, just to top off my evening, my darling husband used the last of the toilet paper at some point and did not think to replace it. So I am forced to crab-walk over to the cabinet to retrieve a roll. Lovely.

Well, I didn't become a mother for the glamour. That's for sure.