Because it's what there is
The most interesting thing that happened to me today involved being in the same room as another guy who crapped his pants so hard he got it on his socks.
That guy was my nine month old son, so it's not as messed up as it could have been, but that is still a reasonably odd thing. My son is gifted in this respect, and has been from the get go. Interestingly, while my wife changes him more frequently, I seem to be the recipient of all the truly epic diapers. This is not just my impression, as she has confirmed it. I was there when he used the exer-saucer to shoot poop up to his neck. I got the one that was so full it came out the top and both sides. It is a phenomenon we both fail to completely understand, though we try.
Because we talk about poo. We have become those people, the ones who have anecdotes that only other parents of small children would appreciate. The ones who don't seem to have anything to say because we don't really watch a lot of TV, don't go out, don't really do anything unless we kind of have to. My wife commented today that while we had an idea we'd have no time for anything else, we really didn't know what that meant.
I'd like to believe that there is another side, that at some point I will have an opportunity to get back to something resembling the type of person that I was before. Being a father is wonderful, but it can also drive one mad. I love movies, but cannot remember the last time I saw a new one from start to finish. I used to have favorite TV shows, but now I don't even bother to remember when things are on other than by checking my DVR and erasing things I know I won't make the time to watch.
I feel pretty trapped, fairly isolated. It is almost like my wife and I are on a raft with our baby, and everyone else is telling us where we need to row and that they understand our whole raft problem, even though each one is different and I know for sure that we have problems that other people don't, that our closest friends and family can't really relate to.
So we talk about the poo, and try to laugh, and smile about how lucky we are to find ourselves in this postition.
That guy was my nine month old son, so it's not as messed up as it could have been, but that is still a reasonably odd thing. My son is gifted in this respect, and has been from the get go. Interestingly, while my wife changes him more frequently, I seem to be the recipient of all the truly epic diapers. This is not just my impression, as she has confirmed it. I was there when he used the exer-saucer to shoot poop up to his neck. I got the one that was so full it came out the top and both sides. It is a phenomenon we both fail to completely understand, though we try.
Because we talk about poo. We have become those people, the ones who have anecdotes that only other parents of small children would appreciate. The ones who don't seem to have anything to say because we don't really watch a lot of TV, don't go out, don't really do anything unless we kind of have to. My wife commented today that while we had an idea we'd have no time for anything else, we really didn't know what that meant.
I'd like to believe that there is another side, that at some point I will have an opportunity to get back to something resembling the type of person that I was before. Being a father is wonderful, but it can also drive one mad. I love movies, but cannot remember the last time I saw a new one from start to finish. I used to have favorite TV shows, but now I don't even bother to remember when things are on other than by checking my DVR and erasing things I know I won't make the time to watch.
I feel pretty trapped, fairly isolated. It is almost like my wife and I are on a raft with our baby, and everyone else is telling us where we need to row and that they understand our whole raft problem, even though each one is different and I know for sure that we have problems that other people don't, that our closest friends and family can't really relate to.
So we talk about the poo, and try to laugh, and smile about how lucky we are to find ourselves in this postition.