Poopy Poop Poop Dung Feces Excrement.

In case you couldn't tell this is a shit-tastic post. As in poop. No there will not be pictures. Except ones I draw myself. And yes mom and grandma, I will probably drop the "s-word" a few more times.

So I'm 37 weeks preg-perego with this squirmy wormy baby girl in my belly and of course I'm really excited to meet her and cuddle with her and talk to her and love on her - that really goes without saying. But today I made a realization. The amount of excrement I will be handling on a daily basis is about to increase exponentially.

I cleaned up no fewer than 6 giant piles of dog crap today (half of which were IN MY HOUSE - anybody want a dog?), plus the two TJ poop diapers I changed (and that's everyday). In addition, we have to factor in a husband who likes to talk about feces and generally requires a toilet-plunging lesson everytime he's finished going number 2, and now we are adding a new baby who will have the (non-smelly, thank GOD) breastmilk runs eleventy-billion times a day. I mean, we are just talking about a whole lotta shit here.

I love my TJ more than anything, I would literally give the heart out of my chest for him, and that fact is made clear to me in part because I don't even mind changing his poopy diapers. I'm sure I'm just like most moms and actually feel a bit of relief when he has his regular bowel movements, just so I know everything is working alright in there.

T has pooped in the potty exactly one time, and I pretty much wanted to throw him a parade. In fact, when he is officially potty-learned I probably will embark on a one-woman ticker tape affair down Michigan Avenue. I'll say "Happy Poop Day" to people, because this is something my child actually says, usually when I'm trying to get him to say "Happy Birthday" to friends or fam on the phone and he gets bored.

The dogs are a different story.

I hate.

Cleaning up.

Dog poop.

So you can imagine how thrilled I was today to clean up the brontosaurus-sized piles of dung IN MY HOUSE, and outside today. The last time I took them out I didn't even take plastic bags with me, thinking there was NO WAYYYYY they could possibly have more poop to poop, but I was wrong.

So yesss, that makes me the asshole who didn't clean up after her dogs on Marshfield today - apologies friends.

So that's where my head is at today, as I'm weeks-to-days away from having a baby. Not on the fact that I haven't packed my hospital bag, or that I need to make my final call to be sure the new baby insurance paperwork is all squared away, or on getting her bed set up or buying a new changing table pad for the bedroom. No, no, no. I'm in feces-land. Thinking about how much more poopy poop crap feces I'm going to be elbow-deep in.

Ooh, the things the books don't talk about :)

Brown squishy love hugs,

Christa