I’m all for taking care of your kids and crap.
My two are usually not hungry, not thirsty, not cold.
For the most part, they’re listed as stable.

They’re doing much better than my mother predicted they would when we announced that we were starting a family (and by starting a family I mean, “Hey mom, hey dad, guess what? Ooops!”)  She was convinced (and, based on current daily phone calls that begin with a panicked “Did you feed the kids?” still is) that I was going to misplace, malnourish, and mangle my offspring (though I will admit, albeit grudgingly, that I may have misplaced them a time or two.  What?  Not hard to do when Target pulls a stunt like putting randomstuffthat’smadeinChinathatIdon’tevenremotelyneed on clearance.)  
Stop judging me.  No one likes a parenting snob.

So, like the sucker I am, I do this mothering bit for free because I love my kids and because no one has offered to pay me yet.  If they did, I would say Hell Yes, hand over my social security number and take a long, overdue lunch break.

But where does it end?

I’ll tell you.

It ends right here:

Don’t let the colorful tubes fool you. 
This is not a taffy-making kit.
A few days ago I briefly mentioned that monchichi was having some potty issues here.
Things have continued to spiral out of control and we are now fully engulfed in Poop Watch 2010.  His doctor, who I was fond of up until yesterday, merrily announced that we have to take some stool samples, and when I asked what our barstools had to do with anything, she wrote something down in his chart and sent us home.
With this handy dandy $#it Kit.
So while you’re watching your Tuesday night lineup, I’ll be hiding in my closet so that my husband has to deal with a situation that can only be described as “omg, ewwwwwwwww!”
He already cleans the litter box.  How different can it be?
On a side note, I found this written on the instruction sheet:
Are you kidding me?
How many careless morons did it take before they had to add this in there?
*Don’t try this literary superiority at home.
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3 Replies to “I Demand A Raise. Or Something.”

  1. Oh no!!

    I swear, as soon as Presleys poops take on a more solid human grown-up form (in both smell and texture), I am turning in my dirty diaper ticket. Not looking forward to that….

    Poor little guy! Hope he gets better!

  2. oh, my. I haven't had the pleasure of doing this with my boys. I'd tell you to just take a deep breath and get it overwith but that would be…um…yeah.

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