Over breakfast this morning, Chad and I negotiated which of us would clean up the poop fiascos in our house.
We lead such glamorous lives.
Before Finn was born, we decided to "go" with cloth diapers. For the most part, it's been a super decision that we're happy with. I feel like I have a pretty good idea of how Finn is digesting his food when I get to deal with it in such a personal way, and I think it's given us an "up" on the future, when (I've been told) we'll be catching vomit in our bare hands...maybe even with the added bonus of being in our own bed. Ooh, boy, looking forward to that (I'm looking at YOU, Angie)!
And then there are those other times...
Like the diaper that conceals its true contents until the very last minute and I'm confronted with avocado poop - or beet poop (both of which look very similar going in as coming out) in great profusion...these diapers are bad enough to change (oh no! It's a 6 wipe-r!), but I really have to psych myself up some days to clean them. The anticipation, for the record, is much worse than the actual reality. I am completely immune to poop now.
(Fun fact: Chad has a fork in our bathroom that he uses as a scraper for those particularly stubborn loads).
Then there was the time when I changed Finn's diaper just before a bath and the poop was squirreled away - not in the diaper, but between his cute little cheeks, so when I went to put my arm under his bum to carry him to the tub...well, you get the idea.
You understand, of course, why there are no photos to use as visual aids today.
Hope you all have a great weekend!