WARNING: CONTENT ONLY SUITABLE FOR PEOPLE UNAFRAID OF BABIES
I have several hobbies. Actually, probably several too many, but I'm nothing if not diverse. I scrapbook. I listen to music. I sing. I attempt to learn guitar. I enjoy a good game of tennis (which hasn't happened since before I got pregnant with Reagan). I watch certain addictive television shows (Grey's, AR, etc.). I organize (for me, its a hobby).
So lately I have a new hobby. Unfortunately, this one does not actually provide a lot of enjoyment or fulfillment. But I do it. Every. Single. Day. At least once.
To be more specific, its Reagan's laundry. Although, she has a special talent for making her laundry all encompassing - meaning it isn't just her clothes she spoils.
This morning for example, her diaper seriously failed her...and her mother. It would have been less awful if she had not been wearing any diaper whatsoever.
Now comes the sentence I didn't think I would ever type: There was poop...everywhere.
In case you are wondering, I am actually capable of undressing myself with one hand and holding a child by the ankles still on a changing table with the other, all without smearing poop on carpet! Will I never cease to impress you people? Not with evolving talents such as these!
Reagan's new found love of sleeping on her tummy has also taught us that indeed, her diapers are unable to accommodate one night's worth of "activity" (not the super-stinky variety) because I have been washing the sheets, blankets, pajamas each day as well.
Not to mention her latest sampling of baby food has included carrots. Carrots do not seem to agree with my child...or her clothes or our carpet for that matter. The varitable rainbow she throws down on the nearest available surface (frequently the shirt off our very backs) has been particularly entertaining. Why didn't you tell me that "spitters" (as my child is so frequently termed) are so easy when they are only spitting up milk? Add baby food and suddenly its anybody's guess what precisely will revisit them. I can't tell you how many minutes of our days are spent on our hands and knees scrubbing away at bloops of spew.
What are hobbies? Something you do frequently? Activities you gravitate towards? Things you wake up to do? Chores you are apparently destined to perform? Duties (forgive me) you find yourself performing before 7:00 AM?
If that is the case, you don't want to know what Reagan's hobbies are.