Dancing Romance & Baby Poop

I've been a mom now for a little over a month. Love of My Life has been a wonderful help and father thus far and one evening he volunteered to change a poopy diaper while I watched one of my favorite shows, So You Think You Can Dance. I was being mesmerized by sequins and tight pants as my favorite couple brought to life a paso doble that would make any romantic swoon when an alarmed one word shout came from the baby's room.

"CRAP"

He can deal with "crap" I thought as the matador (the guy) sent his bright red cape (the girl) twirling across the dance floor. I held my breath. The dance was so beautiful and was building tension when I hear and desperate and defeated voice call, "Honey, can you come help me?" Eyes glued to the TV screen I slowly rise off the couch while simultaneously following the dancers' every move and plotting how to get my husband to take dance lessons. I make my way to the baby's room while my brain runs off to neverland where Jonathan and I are twirling across a dance floor with our teacher shouting "bravo" from the side.

"CRAP" was the appropriate word for the reality that greeted me. Visions of Love of My Life in tight black pants and billowy white shirt evaporate with the smell of poop. Standing by the changing table Love of My Life has been sprayed with watery, seedy, yellow poop. He looks at me with a mixture of "what now" and "I can't handle this" as it drips from his shirt and hands - so I jump in and take over. First I clean up Baby Man and get a clean diaper on him, asking my husband to come back and hold him while I clean up the rest of the mess.

All visions of tight black pants and billowy white shirts melt away as Love of My Life walks up to me in his tight, faded jeans and no shirt. Part of me wants to set the Baby Man down in the poop and throw myself into his arms. The smell again drew my attention and I reluctantly gave the Baby Man over to the handsome man beside me and began cleaning up the projectile poop, that somehow made it across the room, suddenly grateful for hardwood floors.

Dirty job now done I clean my self up and find my two handsome men asleep on the couch together. My husband in jeans, my baby in a clean diaper snuggling chest to chest as the host of So You Think You Can Dance says goodnight.

Goodnight.

Absence Explained

Thank you to all of you who check back occasionally for new posts. I have no idea where this blog will go from here but I think the humor will remain.

I've been busy the past months with attempting to bring a baby into this crazy world. I finally did it... we are now three.

So welcome to Baby Man.


Perhaps mom will find a few moments to provide a few more good laughs soon.

Paige