Toxic Waste and other trappings of parenthood

Do you remember the Ashley Judd/Morgan Freeman movie “Kiss the Girls” that came out more than a few years ago?  It is every single girl’s worst nightmare—a stalking Casanova who prided himself on knowing her most intimate secrets, including her time of the month because he went through her trash.

Well, I’m pretty sure I won’t be having that issue any time soon.  In fact after I paid my bills tonight I threw away some statements without shredding them (gasp!). 

There is no way delicate way of saying it….the Spud’s shit stinks.  I’m a nurse and even I am gagging.  I suspect it has something to do with the antibiotics he is on which may be creating another issue in his belly.  I’m just hoping it doesn’t lead to another nasty infection.   I’ve lit scented candles, double-bagged, I can still freakin’ smell it. 

Not that you really need to know this, but the Spud has been quite regular since we met in VN six weeks ago (six weeks ago today we became a family—wow, where has the time gone?).  Usually every other day with very little fanfare or smell.  Oh, how times have changed!

Not only that, but I am beginning to think it will be easy to get him potty trained.  For the last week, every single time I put him in the high chair he grabs the side of the tray, grunts, his face turns red and his eyes begin to water.  Within a minute or two my eyes begin to water.  Oh my goodness, nothing that awful should come out of anything that small. 

It reminds me of the last few days we were in Vietnam.  While staying in Hanoi we decided to take a tour of Halong Bay (correction: I decided that long before I ever had a referral—we were going to Halong!).  Anyway, the Spud was his usual charming self and because he is the perfect baby he never pooped when we were out.  Yeah, I know, I am really fortunate. 

Anyway, we were traveling the two or three hours back to Hanoi in a van with the three or four other child-free couples. Well, on the way back everyone is sleeping.  Everyone but the Spud.  Not only is he not sleeping, he dropped the biggest, nastiest poo that I have seen in a long time.  And let me tell you, Vietnamese diapers are not made to handle that kind of waste.  It was so bad that even our guide sitting in the front seat starts to gag quietly and discreetly covered his nose with a finger.  Mom and I are laughing our butts off because it is awful and we know it’s awful and I don’t know why they haven’t pulled off the road or at least cracked a window.  The only ones immune were the couple in the far rear of the van.  Well, we finally did pull in and knowing there was no changing facility I suggested to the other couples that they leave.  Most did, except for the couple immediately behind us.  They said it was fine with them.  Well, I no sooner got his pants pulled off and they decided to seek higher ground, preferably upwind of us.  As they stumbled over themselves to get out of the reach of the green cloud the woman called over her shoulder, “he’s cute, but that is awful”. It truly was awful.  It was everywhere.  Have you ever tried to change a diaper in the dark when the baby has had a blowout?  Yeah, ten minutes later and I still can’t shake the smell.  I start searching and realize it is on me.   I started whining at my mom “get it off of me!” It was that bad.