There Goes My Waist Again: July 2009

A lot of people got a good laugh out of these confessions last night so I'll write them out again here. Maybe Avery will have a good laugh some day too.

Dear Avery,

I always change you upstairs in the nursery on your changing table. Problem is you don't seem to like it anymore. You wiggle and kick your legs and toss and turn and make many attempts to crawl right off the table. I bribe you with hairbrushes and remote controls and puffs. But more often than not, changing you is a lot like wrestling an alligator.

So last night Daddy had dinner cooking on the stove and he announced that it would be ready in 3 minutes. You had already eaten and were stripped down to your diaper crawling around like a madwoman. I noticed your diaper looked very full and decided to change you real quick before dinner. In the interest of time I thought I'd do it right there in the family room instead of dragging you upstairs. I pulled a fresh diaper from the diaper bag and pulled your wet one off. I didn't even bother to lie you down first. Only it wasn't just wet. No, to my great surprise, you had yourself a giant poop hiding in there.

I was not prepared at all. I didn't even have any wipes handy. It was too late anyway. Little Miss Kicker that you are, you stepped right into it and then proceeded to step all over me. I shrieked, picked you up by your armpits and started to rush you up the stairs.

Daddy came to see what all the shrieking was about and yelled out, "There's a turd hanging from her butt!!"

And that's when it happened. Right at the bottom of the stairs, that turd fell right off your butt and landed right in the middle of our tile floor.

I wasn't mad about it. Not at all. No sweetheart, I thought it was just about the funniest thing that ever happened. I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. I laughed so hard my side hurt. I laughed so hard I peed my pants -- which isn't that uncommon these days.

And while we're talking about pee, I have one other quick story for you. Last weekend we went to a 4th of July BBQ at Hunter's house. I peed my pants there too. I had to confess to Hunter's mommy because I kept going back and forth to the bathroom to try to fix it and she asked me what was up. She said she'd let me borrow a pair of maternity pants but she'd already lent them all to me. In fact, I was wearing her pants. Yes, honey, I peed Hunter's mommy's pants.

I guess this is what happens when you spend 17 of the last 21 months pregnant. I love you.

Love,

Mommy