It’s 5:30 in the morning. We’re on week three of Simon waking up at this ungodly hour. Tia and I have been taking turns staying up but frankly neither of us is in the best position to deal with it. Tia is literally about to explode with a child and I’m… well I’m tired. It sounds terrible to say but at least Tia can get a nap during the day. Once I wake up at 5:30 there is no going back. I should delete this paragraph because I sound like a tool. Eh, it’s too early to delete.
Usually, Simon has no good reason for getting up this early. Usually, it’s just him laying in bed shouting “Mom” or “Dad” or sometimes even “Thomas”. He’s referring to Thomas the Tank Engine and not Tomas our manservant. We don’t let Tomas deal with Simon, we’ve got our Nanny Marylyn for that. I think her name is Marylyn. So hard to keep track of all the help. But I digress.
So typically he has no good reason for being awake but this morning his reason was justified. All over his pants. You see Simon had the largest diaper I have ever seen. It looked like he didn’t spend anytime sleeping, just a whole night of pooping. It required both Tia and I to get in on clean up duty. I held Simon’s legs to clean him and he was continually apologizing which you know what that leads to. I even told him it’s not his fault to which he began repeating, “my fault”. Yes once again we appeared as abusive parents as Simon whimpered, “I am sorry. My fault.”
So now Simon is all cleaned up and sitting in the living room watching Finding Nemo and Tia and I just got done changing his sheets. I wasn’t joking when I said this was like Poopmagedon. If we had let this sit longer, this poop might have become self aware. But I just did a poop post so this isn’t about poop. I don’t want this to look like a nine year old kid’s blog.