Parenthood is gross. There are soo many things about it that I wish I never had to endure and there have been soo many times that I’m thankful I don’t have a weak stomach.
When I was pregnant with Annika, we took a not so helpful hospital childbirth class, where I mostly critiqued what the lady was telling us and enjoyed watching the other couples who were there actually paying attention. I will never in my life forget this one lady who always had ridiculous questions. Two of my favorites that she asked during the course:
1. Can they give me the old school 50s version twilight anesthesia so I don’t remember any of the birth and just wake up with a baby?
2. Can I ask them to wash off the baby before they give it to me, because I don’t want to touch all that cheesy goo?
I’ve often wondered what happened to that lady and how much she hates the grossness of motherhood, alas I think the teacher sensed my critical gaze and never contacted us for any of the “reunions” for the class. I digress…
I know there are other parents that can’t do the gross. One of my brother-in-laws can’t change a dirty diaper without gagging, though I’m still not sure I believe him or if it is all a convenient ploy to get out of doing it ever. There is not a parent out there that hasn’t had to endure things that they never could have imagined before on a scale of grossness that I did not even know existed before I had children. Poopy diapers are low on the scale in my opinion. I would rank them something like this:
- Wet Diaper on a girl
- Wet Diaper on a boy—much more potential for gross!
- Snot covered face in need of wiping.
- Baby spit up, anywhere.
- A typical poopy diaper
- Booger licking toddler who won’t let you wipe their face and insists on shaking their head as the snot starts to fly off their face all over you and the room.
- Vomit catching with bare hands
- Poopy diaper that exploded up the back requiring at least 10 wet wipes and change of clothing for both baby and maybe you.
- A poopy swim diaper!
- The Double Yuck: Both Ends at the same time and you have no way to avoid everyone being covered in one or the other (maybe both)---If I need to explain this more, then you are a lucky lucky human being who has never had to deal with disgustingness of this magnitude.
As a parent I am no longer surprised by this stuff, though it does still make me want to upchuck sometimes. I do not enjoy sitting at the dinner table as a family and looking over to notice the “poop face” my kid is making, but my tolerance is getting pretty high for this kind of thing. I can change a 2 year old’s dirty diaper without flinching. I’m still getting excited for Mayzie to start using the potty, despite the long learning process I know goes along with that. Our goal, fly home with 2 girls in underpants. We’ll see how it goes.
Other fun parenting indignities we have to suffer in Berlin:
-Annika’s constant chatter outing us as foreigners all the time and making us a target for staring at all times.
-Annika’s need to pee every ½ an hour or so forcing us to engage in much public urination as we sling her knees over our forearms and “water” another tree. A German friend told us that there is no public urination law, so we worry less about getting a ticket now.
I heard a rumor that at some point we may actually not have to deal with this stuff anymore at all, though I’m not sure I believe them. The light at the end of the diaper tunnel is most assuredly keeping us going and an excellent deterrent for wanting any more babies.