Before I became a mom (and even saying that still feels a little weird. Me? A mom? And yet...) I would never in a million years have said to another person, "Are you taking a dump? Because it sure looks like it." But I can scratch that one off of my list now. Of things I never thought I'd say -- things I've never even thought to say. I have never been a fan of poo. In fact, I've always kind of thought that people who think poo is hilarious have some kind of personal deficit. Even in elementary school when the boys (and it was always the boys, especially Jimmy Tucker) would fart and crack up I was disgusted, writing them off as immature and possibly retarded. It's the sort of subject where there just aren't many acceptable reasons to talk about it that aren't medical in nature and directed at a medical professional. Rest assured, it is a part of your life I do not want or need to know more about.
And yet, here I am. When you spend your day wiping someone else's butt it changes you. Like how people who win the lotto or survive a violent attack are never the same afterward. It's exactly like that. Granted, I have hardly become a bastion of scatological humor, but today, for example, when Gavin farted quite loudly I found it both amusing and adorable.
I have limits, though. A week or so ago Stacy said in all seriousness that Gavin's poos were now more "man-like" I had to draw the line. Gross, Honey. Gross.
Today was much better than yesterday as far as Gavin's crabbiness goes. He was in a much better mood all day, though getting him down for his afternoon nap was a trial. He was screaming and crying. And I do mean screaming. I do think sound barriers were broken in this house. After the second time going in to soothe him I gave him some acetaminophen and that seemed to do the trick. He's got all the signs of teething and since I can't ask him if his mouth is hurting, all I can do is guess. I do not like to give him medicine if I am not sure he needs it, but I definitely don't want him to just be in pain because his mom is waiting for him to talk before she'll dose him up.
This evening Stacy, Gavin, and I were working out in the yard. We put Gavin's playpen in the middle of the yard and he was content to be in there for a little while. He liked watching me mow the lawn (I have a reel mower, so it's not like I was making him deaf and blowing exhaust in his face or anything). I managed to get the backyard mowed, but nothing else done. Stacy didn't get much done, either because after about an hour it was time for Gavin to get ready for bed and since he was slathered in sunblock he needed a bath. So while I was outside finishing up and Stacy was inside getting Gavin ready for his bath, I heard Stacy call out to me and when I looked up there was my son, balls-out in the window with a huge smile on his face. Stacy was holding him up and laughing. If I ever needed a reminder of how much fun it is to be a parent -- especially being a co-parent with Stacy -- that was it.
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