One thing about having a second, tiny, wriggling infant inhabiting our house once again, is being re-introduced to all the chores and routines I strangely had forgotten all about a mere 20 months ago when our first infant came along.
In the case of this second infant, unfortunately, there's the added bonus of our daughter spitting up copious amounts of breast milk multiple times every day. With our first child, there was only minor spit-up issues. Our preemie daughter, however, comes equipped with an easily irritated stomach and a hair-trigger reflux action. The combination results in our daughter spewing mom juice all the time, often violently, as if she's auditioning for an infant remake version of "The Exorcist."
Obviously, such repeated milk hurbling is a concern just from the standpoint of worrying whether our daughter is getting enough nourishment to stay down. But, also, it leads to a truly staggering amount of laundry, because each time our daughter expels a hork-load of mammary mix, it doesn't just disappear into mid-air. If ONLY.
No, it goes EVERYWHERE. And it doesn't discriminate against clothing, either. My clothes; my wife's clothes; our daughter's clothes; heck, even occasionally our son's clothes--it's all fair game so long as it's within an acceptable hurbling distance, and you'd be amazed at how far a six pound baby can eject a stream of milk.
And so the laundry just piles up day in and day out, all day long. I'll actually be in the act of putting laundry into the washing machine, and freshly en-hurbled clothes will continually rain down through the clothes chute just inches away from me. I simply can't keep ahead of it. It's the laundry equivalent of Sisyphus rolling his boulder up the hill. I get SO CLOSE, and then another fresh batch comes cascading down.
"Oh, Ryan," you say. "It can't be that bad. Just let it sit for awhile."
To which I respond: "You shut your fool mouth!!"
Believe me, I once allowed a mound of milk-moistened laundry sit a bit too long, and I became keenly aware of my error when I walked by the fermenting pile and was taken aback by the pungent odor of whatever kind of cheese I had unwittingly begun creating through my laundry inaction.
Never. Again.
And so we push through each and every day, waiting for our daughter's internal plumbing to adequately develop so she can keep more milk down and digested, at which point our focus will no doubt shift back to the wonderful world of diapers.
Kids. They're just gross.
Posted by Ryan at May 20, 2011 01:12 PM | TrackBackNot to encourage you in that particular direction, but you do have a particularly funny writing style when talking about gross things.
Yes, this post was LOL funny.
Maybe you could try some sort of large sponge facemask? You know, like a Hannibal Lechter mask but highly absorbent?
Posted by: Stephen R at June 3, 2011 06:51 AMStephen, you probably didn't realize it as you wrote it out, but:
"LargeSponge FaceMask" is obviously the arch-nemesis of "SpongeBob SquarePants."
Posted by: Ryan at June 3, 2011 11:42 AM
Stumble It!
