jianantonic: (Default)
Last weekend, Toby and I went up to Vancouver to visit Emily, Chris, and Trevor. We agreed to babysit Trevor for the day on Saturday so the parents could go to a beer festival -- their first real time away from the baby together. I was honored to do the babysitting for such an occasion, and it was Toby's first time meeting Trevor. We were psyched.

We arrived on Friday night, and Emily informed us that Trevor had not taken a shit since Sunday. I did the mental math...JESUS CHRIST! She'd taken him to the doctor and the doc said that since he didn't appear to be in any discomfort, just to wait it out. They gave him prune juice a few times and stopped with the solid foods for a few days, but no luck.

Saturday rolled around, and I just *knew* it would happen on our watch. When Lucy was a baby, she'd get constipated a lot, but whenever I'd hold her, nature would call, and press 2. It's just this power that I have. Perhaps my voice is the brown noise. Anyway.

We fed him a bottle, and spit up all over me, which I declared less desirable than dealing with his shit. Something about the look and the smell of baby spit up is just SO GROSS to me, but I handled it without too much hacking of my own, and we went about our day. Toby and I got lunch, and put Trev down in a bouncy seat while we ate. Em warned us that he'd only be content there for a few minutes at most, so we ate quickly, and I gave Toby the choice after lunch of dealing with the dishes or entertaining the baby. He chose dishes, and what a serendipitous choice it was!

When I went to lift Trevor out of his chair, my hands reached into a lake of shit. I called for backup as I ran to the changing pad to begin to deal with the situation. It was EVERYWHERE. As I worked to unsnap his onesie, he kicked and squirmed and smeared his own poo around with his feet. When I removed his clothes to assess the damage at ground zero, his entire backside was covered. That turdpedo had erupted from all possible diaper exits and had reached the back of his head. Toby ran for the diaper genie, and I gently wiped the crying, shit-smeared baby, now half his previous body weight, until I was satisfied that he was clean enough for a new diaper. This process lasted at least 15 minutes, and I'm very lucky that he did not pee while he was undiapered in that time, because I was dealing with the most I could possibly handle.

Once I had him in a new diaper, he was much less cranky. I had gone through at least 20 [cloth, reusable!] wipes, but there was still the matter of his hair. I held him at the sink while Toby used the spray faucet to return his hair color from brown to its original blond. After I fully dressed him in a clean new outfit, I kept noticing more outposts of shit that I'd missed on my first ten passes. Baby fat can hide some horrible secrets! Finally clean, both of us were exhausted from the experience, and we went to nap together. I lazily browsed the internet on my laptop while Trevor snoozed happily on my chest for the next hour and a half. His naps until that point had been about 20-30 minutes at best, according to Em and Chris. I felt a huge sense of accomplishment, both for having dealt admirably with the six day poobomb, and for getting him to sleep his best nap in weeks. I'm sure the two were related.

Achievement (and bowels) unlocked! Platinum level aunting. 10,000XP.

Toby, on the other hand...

Well, Toby helped where I needed him. But it was the first time in all the time I've known him that I was calmer than he was. While I worked through wiping the poo to end all poos, with Trevor wailing in dissatisfaction, Toby mostly hid in the other room, shouting at me "THIS IS WHY YOU ALWAYS WEAR A CONDOM!"

I love this guy. I'm so glad he shares my life goals of never having children.

Some friends expressed astonishment at my handling of the shituation, but honestly, what was I gonna do? It's not like it could be ignored. And now, Trevor will be in my debt for the rest of my life ;)
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
I wrote the sequel to Schoolhouse Rock's "Conjunction Junction."

Constipation station...

But then I got stuck and couldn't really go from there.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
I don't think people are really thinking it through when they say things like "chocolate is my favorite thing." Because I think not getting shit on is better than chocolate, and we shouldn't take that for granted.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
Me: I'm sick.
Z: I'm sorry sweetie -- with what do you think you're sick?
Me: Feels like a head cold. Might be ebola, though.
Z: Ooh, you'd be famous!
Me: Famous for diarrhea.
Z: That should totally be the title of your unauthorized biography.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
I haven't been getting enough sleep this week, and the sleep I got last night was anything but restful. You see, I had the most unsettling dream I can remember having in my life. It was all kinds of uncomfortable, but also really funny, so I'll share.

I was staying at a resort with my whole family, and I was responsible for getting the girls to sleep at night. For a combination of reasons, the three of them bounced off the walls well into the next morning, and it was sun-up by the time I actually got to sleep. But it didn't last long, because nature's call woke me up. I groggily got out of bed and went to the nearest bathroom. I sat down and began the business of loaf-pinching when I realized I wasn't in a bathroom. I was in a den, and I was sitting not on a toilet but on a step stool. However, I was already past the point of no return. I decided the best course of action was to finish what I'd started and clean up after. But when it came time to clean up, I had nothing to use, since I wasn't actually in a bathroom. This is where the dream -- remember, this is a dream, not an account of something that actually happened -- took a turn toward even more uncomfortable territory.

I had to dispose of this...situation. I couldn't find a trash can anywhere. I was wearing pajama pants but no top, but I was panicking because people in the house were starting to wake up and I was about to get busted holding a pile of my own turds. So I ran outside looking for a place to dispose of my unsavory loot. I kept seeing things that looked like trash cans, but I would walk closer and they'd just be statues or some other non-trash can thing. The resort units basically took up all the space, so there were no bushes or woods where I could discretely get rid of my problem...so I just kept walking, topless, holding a paper bag of my own poo (I don't know where I got the bag, but at least I wasn't just carrying a pile of shit barehanded), through a resort village, looking for a trash can. People were coming outside and seeing me, and I tried to play it off as normal, but no one was buying it. The resort seemed to be populated exclusively by frat boys who were all very interested in why I was topless. I scurried through the area as quickly as I could, and eventually made my way to the pool area. Again, I had a mirage of a trash can, so I hustled down onto the deserted pool deck to make my deposit and then run back to my room and pretend like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Only, it wasn't a trash can. Foiled again! Frustrated and at the end of my rope, I just tossed the shit into the sparkling pool and split, running like hell, holding my bare chest, and hoping no one would run forensic tests on the pool poo and trace it back to me and send me to prison for life. I was sure that every person who saw me knew exactly what I'd been up to. What other explanation is there for a topless woman running around a resort in PJ bottoms at dawn? God, it was so obvious, it was written all over my face...how could anyone NOT figure it out?

I was mortified, but did my best to hold my head high and act natural while I made my way back behind the closed doors of my own room.


So. That was the most uncomfortable I've been in a long time. There are a lot of unanswered questions in this dream, obviously -- how can a grown human person get 3/4 of the way through a deuce before she realizes she's not actually on a toilet? Why was there no way of disposing said deuce in the toilet after the fact? Mysteries of the universe. Suffice it to say, I've rarely been more relieved to have my alarm snap me out of dreamland, even though I got at best 5 hours of sleep last night and could really use another 5 or more before I feel like a person again...but all I have to do is get through this day, then I have a massage after work and can happily crash when I get home in the early evening. Just a handful of hours from now...
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
To set the scene, McKenzie and I are in southern Oregon playing bridge. We're staying at a hotel, but have been out since 9am. We just had a big meal at a Vietnamese restaurant and got in the car to head back to our hotel...
Z: I call bathroom!
Meg: no! Really???
Z: REALLY. I could have dumped this morning before we left.
Meg: and you haven't gone all day?!
Z: right.
Meg: how is that even possible?
Z: I am an expert.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
The other day, McKenzie texted me that he'd just taken a shit that was the exact size and shape of an adult box turtle.

Now I laugh uncontrollably every time I see a turtle.

And also, in my head, they are now "turdles."
jianantonic: (Default)
Two totally cute stories about my nieces from the weekend:

On Friday, Lucy and Frankie were playing dress-up in the other room while I hung out with Rachel and Bess.  Suddenly they broke into a screaming match over who would get to wear a certain dress.  Rachel was breastfeeding so it was up to me to go in and referee.  I think I did a pretty fantastic job of it, and they went back to playing happily.  They eventually got to wrestling, as they often do, and Lucy accidentally knocked Frankie over.  Frankie yelped and cried a little bit, and Lucy immediately apologized.
Lucy:  I'm really sorry, Frankie!
Frankie:  It's okay, Lucy.  But that hurt a lot.

I just thought it was adorable how they'd scream at each other over sharing a dress, but that they were so delightfully civil with each other in this incident of actual pain and suffering.

Then that evening, Ethan was over and the girls were going to bed.  They give hugs all around as they say goodnight, and after Frankie hugged Ethan, she held out her fist to him and said "Fist bump, Ethan!"  And they totally fist bumped and it was the greatest thing I'd ever seen in my life.

Bonus story, but probably not as cute:  Bess took back-to-back-to-back-to-back shits this morning, in the span of about five minutes.  That's my girl!


jianantonic: (Default)

September 2017

3456 789


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 26th, 2017 07:15 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios