My hands are in WHAT?

It still amazes me how far I've come in my tolerance of poop and vomit. Having a baby definitely gets you introduced to it. I remember many times where Maddie and Josie both had diaper leaks that dribbled down my arm. And I don't mean the yellow kind of leak, either. Having two kids with reflux issues introduced me to spit-up. I think I gave up wearing any black clothing for the first year of each one's life. I know Bill definitely went to work with a little dribble on the shoulder of his shirt each day. So much for giving the baby a hug on the way out the door.

I thought I had it all conquered until the girls became toddlers. Solid food was introduced. Spit-up was replaced with actual chunky vomit. (Sorry for the visuals I've caused) I'm amazed at how I've held it together whether being vomited on or actually having my hands wrist-deep in poop. Somehow my brain kicks into action mode and I don't even smell or notice what I'm doing - just get the job done. Potty-training the girls definitely reinforced the idea that I shouldn't have used cloth diapers. For all my best intentions for them and the environment, I'm definitely thankful to Huggies.

**You will see many comics from Natalie Dee in my postings from here on. I searched through her archives last night and laughed more than I have in a long time. You should check it out yourself.