Craptastic

(warning: poop talk)

I spend a great deal of time thinking about poop these days. And I think I'm not alone based on the number of posts about poop I've read on other people's blogs. Mostly I worry, has she? will she? and when? Recently I've begun to worry what I'll get when I pull open her diaper. Will it be the gooey mess I'm used to or the new solid variety. When the solids made their first appearance I was a tad unnerved. However, I have come to prefer them. How great is that? I have a poop preference.

Lucky for me, it's been mostly smooth sailing in the poo department since the bean arrived, with only a few blips. However, this morning we had an incident. The setting: I'm changing Sophie on her fireplace changing station. She's being a cool customer for a change. Usually it's arms and legs EVERYWHERE. When I pull down her diaper, there's a little roundish turd. Not a big deal, except that as I'm rolling up her diaper for disposal, that little turd makes a run for it and lands smack on the cat's scratch box next to the fireplace. Which now that I think about it is much better than landing on our new carpet. I say something very witty and appropriate like "oh crap!"

Although I need to keep one hand on the babe so she doesn't roll off, I don't believe I'll have any trouble reaching it. However, I just used the last baby wipe and the tissue box is across the room. There's no chance I'm picking it up barehanded and somehow the idea of leaving it sit there while I finish up the diapering and redressing seems too yucky. And that's when I realize that this is what my life has come to - errant poo retrieval. Not that long ago I was living the high life with great clothes, parties, exotic vacations and, ohhhh, a waistline. I spent my days working to acquire multi-million dollar contracts for my employer. My nights, well those I spent sleeping. And here I am, staring down a turd.

Once I got my wits about me, I realized that I was just going to have to sacrifice a new diaper for the cause. So that's just what I did. In the end, I've come to terms with the poop pondering, handling and disposing that are a part of my life now. And crazy as it sounds, I wouldn't change a thing. Now, how do I tell the cats that the baby pooped on their scratching post?

Edited to add: The faux brick behind the fireplace was there when we moved in and I haven't figured out what else to put there or how to change it (maybe painting?) to make it look less, um, faux. Any ideas??