I've had an interesting week of minor successes and failures. Elliot finally has his health insurance in order. Success. Ayla had a fever of 103. Failure. I made a healthy potato soup without incident. Success. Everyone hated it. Failure.
These are my days, certainly exciting and full of activity. Just as I'm starting to feel good, like it's "under control", I do something stupid or someone falls or another medical bill shows up in the mail (how much can it actually cost to give birth???)/
Anyways, I had an epic fail changing Elliot's diaper this week. One would think that I'm pretty experienced at changing diapers by now. It's kind of my hobby. But I had taken off a pretty poopy diaper and folded it in half. I was smiling at my baby, and he was smiling at me. Then I went to toss the diaper in the garbage, which is a mere foot away....
It flipped open and newborn baby poop went flying all over the wall. Totally my fault, totally another ridiculous mess to clean up. Did I really just throw poop on the wall? Yes, I certainly did. Thank goodness it was only Elliot's diaper - for anyone who doesn't know, newborn babies that are breastfed have the (how do I put this?) nicest poop. It doesn't smell AT ALL. It's very benign.
But that doesn't mean you want it on the wall. And for all you potential home buyers in the Leetsdale area: I have cleaned it up thoroughly and we don't ordinarily throw poop around the house.
This story sums up my experience as a parent. You're enjoying a peaceful moment, another methodical function in an ordinary day: and there's always something just waiting to flip open and create a scenario you never quite saw coming.
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