I’m a lurker.
I hate that I’m a lurker, but I am all the same.
I wish my lurkers would comment from time to time. We all love comments, myself included but I find myself lurking on a few sites. Of course I try to justify my lurking by putting them on my blogroll. After all, it is MY blogroll.
Besides, they usually average 30-70 comments a post. I’d kill for that. You have to be a heavy-poster to get to that point and we all know what a slacker I am in that category.
Before I get WAY off track…
One of the blogs that I like to lurk read is Antique Mommy. I ran across her blog a year or so ago and I was stunned how much she looked like a friend of mine who had her first kid at 41.
It completely amazes me how women have children in their 40’s. I’m 36 and you couldn’t pay me to be pregnant again. I’m doing good to just make it out of bed, thankyouverymuch.
So needless to say, Antique Mommy tickles my funny bone when it comes to mommyhood things. Recently she posted about a memory of one of the first times she changed her son’s diaper. It rang very similar to our (read: my husband’s) first diaper change of our first son.
My husband, J, definitely has more experience in the little kids area than I ever have. I was scared to death to have a child. I dearly wanted one, but was shocked that the 9, oh who are we kidding, 10 months of incubation didn’t bring on that motherly feeling. He was even 2 weeks late, and all that did was irritate me.
He finally came and it didn’t take long for him to have to be changed. I was still numb from the spinal block, so my hubby flew into action. As good as he was with kids, it was just a different story when it was HIS kid. He wanted everything to be just so. He had the new diaper ready, wipees, a towel under his butt, and trashcan nearby.
As soon as he unwrapped him from his blanket OldMan started screaming. Nothing like screaming from a newborn to put some pressure on you!
J whipped off the dirty diaper and reached for the clean one and then it happened. If you’re a mom/dad of a boy you know exactly what’s coming next.
My husband had thought of everything except for the pee-pee shield. And OldMan let it fly! That pee arched high and right into his own mouth. I couldn’t see a thing except for J’s back, but what I heard in unison was:
J: Uhm…dangit,dangit,dangit, Aw man…wait, stop, dangit,DangIt,DANGIT!!!!!!
He didn’t know whether to cover the part or pick him up and drain his mouth. He was a mess…both of them. He was able to finish up, but it took a long time before he saw the humor in it.
Now OldMan is eight and he thinks it’s a hilarious story and laughs with his dad over it.
You can bet your sweet bip-y, we didn’t make that same mistake with Gremlin. Shoot, we were pro’s by then! As long as we don’t count the time that we forgot to put up the side of Gremlin’s crib and found him the next morning sleeping on the top bunk of his brothers bed! 😉