This is going to be short, and a little gross, but also very true. For some reason having little kids around makes literally everything smell like poop....like all the time. Not that I'm complaining. I mean, I'd rather have a home that smells like poop than a poop-free life with no Rowan and Emma. But seriously, all the time!
I just listened to both the kids fall asleep and thought I'd take a break from packing to sit and enjoy the serenity that is nap time. I changed two dirty diapers (one of which was cloth...bleh), brushed some teeth, did a little snuggling and then some tucking in. All is well. But for the life of me I cannot shake the lingering sense that there is baby poop on me somewhere. I can't see it, oh no no. But it is there, I assure you. Someone's dirty diaper has followed me into my nap-time oasis.
Now, if I were really clever, I would share with you how the smell of baby poop during this precious quiet time is really some sort of metaphor. I would reveal to you the hidden symbolism that somehow makes it representative of all mothers everywhere. But let's be real, poop is poop. It smells bad; I like when it's not around.
But until my tiny little humans learn how to plant their bottoms on the "poppy," as Rowan says, this is my reality. And the reality of every single person who has ever had the pleasure of raising children. So, I'm embracing the poop and getting back to packing.
No I am not showering, all of you problem solvers out there...that would be the opposite of a poop embrace. Also, regular showers are not a real thing in our house anymore. I am embracing....and packing. But mostly embracing.
Embrace the poop. Check it off my list for today.
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