So today was poop day. My daughter has gotten into the pattern of saving up her “solids” for a few days, and then letting everything all out in one. This usually occurs on a day in which we have plenty of things scheduled to do. In no way does this bother me, though; I appreciate a good challenge. Within thirty minutes of changing her first diaper today, in the midst of doing the dishes, I glanced over at her and noticed a huge brown stain on the back of her onesie. Not only had she blown-out another diaper, but this time the residue had traveled all the way up her back! Color me impressed. Luckily all her cloth diapers were freshly washed and dried. I had one-handedly accomplished this task earlier in my towel. I’m not trying to be provocative or superlative- the towel part is relevant because my laundry room just so happens to be located outside on my porch, which faces a busy street. And while it’s never my intention to give the “passerbyers” a show, when the diapers need washed, I must tend to them- especially on poop day.
I’ve been residing in this particular dwelling place for two months now. My husband and I are thirteen hours away from our families. We are new to the area. And even if we were to acquire trustworthy acquaintances, I’m still not comfortable with leaving my baby. As a result, I have kept her attached to my hip (literally, in a sling). This doesn’t pose a huge problem when I’m juggling the laundry, but it does make working out a bit of a challenge.
When we moved here my baby was four-months-old and taking her to the gym was a breeze. I would position her carseat next to the treadmill, and the white noise would lull her to sleep every time. Then she got used to it. After the novelty wore off I could barely make it five minutes on the treadmill before she began to cry, wiggle, and exhibit epic frowns until I paused the machine, jumped off and rescued her from the shackles of her plush carseat.
I then tried to make my gym time her tummy time. That worked until she started scootin’ around and running into everything. I was constantly getting off the treadmill to pull her away from peril (walls, cords, and equipment). And although this may have upped my heart rate, it made for an incredibly frantic workout. It got even worse when she started sitting up. Then I had to worry about her crashing into the walls and equipment.
So after two months, I have officially conceded. Today I dug out my Brazilian Butt Lift Workout DVD’s (the ones I shamelessly bought before my wedding). I put Mackenzie in her jumperoo, and I worked out with minimal stress. She was completely copacetic, and she probably ended up burning as many calories as I did by jumping so vigorously in that nifty contraption.
Near the end of my workout, she started glazing over; so when I finished, I quickly rinsed off in the shower so that I could nurse her. Between the shower and the feeding is when I deemed it imperative to switch the diapers over to the dryer so that I could have one ready as soon as possible. This is also when I could have been shamelessly caught outside on my porch with a baby in one arm and diapers in the other hand, while trying to will my towel to stay up.
All this just to make sure that I would have fresh diapers at my disposal, which is critical on a day like today: poop day.