I’m sitting here in my messy office eating a homemade frappachino with a spoon because I froze it solid scared I’d devour it too quickly otherwise. I SO know myself. Since having child #2 I’ve noticed that I turn to sweets as a coping mechanism for stress, although, now that I think about it, I’m totally not stressed right now so WHATTHEHECK me? Regardless this is amazing, fattening and delicious- mehhh, I’ll burn off the calories later breast feeding.
Sawyer has decided he prefers the cuddling of the swing to my arms (a good thing but slightly insulting) so I actually have a few minutes to myself while he’s occupied and while Sum naps to catch up on some things online and post here. This morning, I heard Summit talking in his room around 8:30 and got out of bed (don’t judge me) to go get him. He had ripped off half his diaper and decided to poop. By poop I mean diarrhea from a stomach bug he’s had for over a WEEK. There was nastiness down the leg of his pj’s so I had to strip him down and throw him in the bath and all his linens in the laundry. *This is the 4th day in a row this has happened*. I don’t deal well with poop. It grosses me out and I have to hold my nose so I won’t gag myself into throwing up. And his poop has been very smelly lately. So, Summit is in heaven getting to take a bath first thing the last few mornings and it occurred to me- is he doing this intentionally to get a bath? I’d like to think that he’s above this, that he couldn’t possibly think this through, and even if he did, that he wouldn’t act upon this. He has to see my displeasure, my discomfort and frustration about this. He’s had this bug for awhile now, there is no way he’d play this up for his advantage… right?
In case I haven’t already said this somewhere in my blog recently, he’s in pull-ups again. He was potty trained at the beginning of the year but with moving, starting pre-school and the arrival of baby brother, Sum has regressed. It’s ok, I know it’s normal and I was honestly expecting it a little bit. I am so grateful this week that he’s regressed. I am barely able to stand cleaning up his diapers, I don’t think I could manage poop filled underwear and clothing every few hours. AND I’ve been taking him to the bathroom every few hours too, it’s not like I’m not trying to potty train him, I just think that until he can talk or is willing to sign and tell me that he has to go that it’s a moot point.
On a separate note, B is much better at changing diapers than me. What’s up with that?? I’m suppose to be the good one at this, I mean, I do it more often than he does, I just don’t get this. I always manage to use like 20 wipes where 2 would do and STILL get poop on my hand somewhere. He totally knows this too and points it out as he watches from across the room. I point back to him that if he’s so much better than he should do it all the time when he his home. He points back at me that he usually does and that shuts me up because it’s totally the truth. Also, he’s sick right now so I won’t make fun of him.
It’s been a long week. A long week with a sick kid. A long week without a car. A long week and a sick husband… ehhhhhhhh…
In case you were wondering, NO, I don’t suffer quietly. 
That is what this blog is for.
Here’s to a better week starting tomorrow…. Peace.