I Am Jack's Raging Mommy

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Friday, September 09, 2005

Bitch and Moan

I hate poop.
I know, everyone talks about poop, and how annoying it is, and all the difficulties they have with constipated children and kids who eat their poop. I know I am lucky that I don't have those issues since we cleared up Jack's constipation issues, but god I hate poop. Jack is on soy formula due to milk allergies. I was born with them but luckily outgrew them, and Joe is lactose intolerant. When you add in that my oldest also had pretty bad reactions odds are very good that Jack would have them too, but we didn't know for sure. Until now. I ran out of my normal formula yesterday, and out of curiosity I bought Lactose free. Wow that was a mistake. I ended up going back to the store last night and buying the Soy we normally get, and throwing out the rest of the pitcher I'd made of the Lactose Free. Add in the screaming and not sleeping and incredibly rank poop this morning and I won't be doing that again. Soy poop smells bad enough, but this was awful. It reminded me of Pigpen, with the cloud of odor that surrounds him. Sure like most people I have that twisted fascination with my own poop, but this is Jack's poop, and not mine, and no person should ever have to be so exposed to the excrement of another. There's something fundamentally wrong about it. Even the ancients knew that it was just wrong. Waste has always been something that was done in private, so it's not just me and my wussy modern self. I just thank God I don't have to use cloth diapers.

My oldest and his family are coming to visit tomorrow, and meet Jack. I was looking at some of his old baby pictures, and it's uncanny. They are practically twins, just born eight years apart. Then again my baby pictures are almost identical as well. This makes the fifth generation that we have photographic evidence of that look alike. Those are some strong damn genes I tell you. Mine are the first documented boys though, which is what I hang my hopes on of them not also having the strong genetic depression. I bring this up because I am in a foul mood, again. I need to make an appointment at my old clinic, something I mentioned over a month ago but still haven't got around to doing. It's kind of a catch 22, to be able to get my medicine that helps me function around others and leave the house I have to function around others and leave the house. Why can't I just get drunk and live in a fog? Oh yeah, I have a child now. Damn responsibility.

Has everyone seen the Red Stripe beer commercials by the way? I love them. And the white guy who dances in the one is just like my little brother. It makes me laugh.


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