Sometimes, parenting stinks.
While I could do a whole post on the metaphorical ways parenting sometimes stinks, this one is all about the literal. And I’m #soblessed that I wouldn’t dare insinuate that life with kids is anything other than unicorns, rainbows and Elsa popsicles.
I TRY not to be the stinky one. I use deodorant– daily. And perfume– mostly daily.
God Bless ’em, the deodorant and perfume do their damnedest, but they’re just no match for motherhood.
Often, I’ll get a whiff of myself and I’ll think, hmm, when was the last time I showered? Like a coroner estimating time of death, I factor in these recent 90 degree days and the half empty can of dry shampoo and my best guess places it more than 48 hours ago.
And, it’s not like I do the sniff test and re-wear clothes days in a row. I make sure to wear clean clothes at the start of every day. (Except yoga pants, yoga pants don’t count.
It’s a scientific fact that they get dirtier more slowly than regular clothes.) It makes for more laundry but, hey, I’m worth it.
Like I said, I start the day in clean clothes. Within about, oh, 12 seconds, I get barfed on. This is the foundation for the spoiled milk scent that will only intensify and follow me the rest of the day. Yes, of course, I could change my shirt but she’d only barf on me again the moment I do, so why bother?
Next to the mix, baby +/- toddler pee. Pee is sterile so its not like you have to change your pants if they get some diaper leakage on them. Right? Right.
Poop though, poop is the deal breaker. I absolutely, without fail, will change my clothes within an hour of getting poop on them. Usually.
Maybe I should be bathing regularly and changing my shirt frequently. But, short of spending my day in a boy-in-the-plastic-bubble bubble or instituting a strict no contact parenting plan, it won’t be enough. For the next few years I’ll just have to be content with baby wipes baths and an extra spritz of perfume.
And, if you’re asking “what’s that smell?” It’s probably me.