Pessimistic Optimism

Life as I see it… sort of.

3AM Wake Up Call

Last night This morning got started way before I would have liked.  First there was screaming, second there was a plea for help, and thirdly I plopped out of bed and crawled to the wails of my wife and son.

He’s still a little sick, so I wasn’t completely shocked until I got near him.  He wreaked of fecal excretions.  My sense of smell wished for the pleasant odor of a skunk or rotten meat.  My wife had a snarl on her face.  At first I thought that she was upset with me, but then I realized she was just trying not to breathe in the foul air that enveloped her as she tried to soothe the little perpetrator of this crime against all things good in this world.

For anyone who has been in this situation before with a child or intoxicated adult you can relate to how we felt.  After the shock of the problem dissipates, acceptance comes.  The inspection process is next and then we can figure out the best way to get him cleaned up.

It was bad, very bad.  The poop (I’m a parent) soaked through his diaper onto every bit of clothing he was wearing.  The sleeper kept it all inside, which is a good thing believe it or not.  We tried changing him in his room, but that wasn’t going to cut it.  The stressful situation and exhaustion caused us to get snippy with each other, which didn’t help the situation.  This didn’t last too long because we knew we had a job to do so we brought him into the tub for a proper washdown.  This was no small task because he was a mess and in a very bad mood.  He wiggled around more than Greg, Anthony, Murray and Jeff combined.  The wash cloth dripped brown as we scrubbed his red behind and belly and legs, etc.

The whole thing took about a half hour, I think, but seemed like three hours.  I wouldn’t wish this experience on anyone… well, maybe a couple of people.  I’m sure we’ll laugh about this someday after years of therapy or we lose our sense of smell.


October 2, 2006 - Posted by | kids, parenthood, parenting, Still Awake

1 Comment »

  1. […] We’ve had a few trying moments with the boy the past few days ( see 3AM Wake Up Call for one of them).  He’s gotten in the habit of making a mess with his bodily fluids.  He erupted vomit the evening after the wake up call as I was getting him ready for bed.  It covered him, me, the changing table and his carpet.  The topper was that he just ate chocolate pie and feta cheese, not together because a pregnant woman wouldn’t even combine those two things.  He repeated the puking scenario the next night around the same time.  I reacted fast enough to guide most of the chunky expulsion onto the linoleum floor.  See, I was a good dad.  […]

    Pingback by Downgraded Dad « Pessimistic Optimism | October 5, 2006 | Reply

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