I feel like my whole life revolves around other people's poop. Whether it is literal or figurative, I am constantly exposed to someone else's poop.
I have always been a pet owner. Cats mostly, some ferrets and a rabbit here and there. All of these animals poop... a lot. I realize that everyone poops and I am OK with that. But my exposure to others poop has increased exponentially in the past couple of years.
When J and I had B we became aware of the poop thing on the first day with that nasty, black, tar like meconium. I knew this was the beginning of the end. But we did it together. We stood together in front of the bassinet, side by side, cleaning nastiness off of the cutest little booty ever. Ever since then we have been doing the same thing. Doing it all side by side.
It comes to a point where I am done cleaning up other people's poop... but if no more poop meant I couldn't have the life and family that I have, I wouldn't give it up for anything.
There is no “New Me”
2 weeks ago