Poop

I took Romolo for a walk yesterday. He pooped, as dogs do, and it was something stinky. He had gotten into our trash last night and ate the left over cabbage. If you have ever had cabbage, then I am sure you are able to form an idea of what I was dealing with.

So, as I was bending over to pick up the poop, with a plastic bag, I started dry heaving right there. Like full out gagging, flexing and flaring all the muscles in my back and stomach but nothing came out (luckily) because I had just taken my thyroid medication, which needs to be taken on an empty stomach, thank god!

I couldn't pick it up (back to the poop). I had to put the plastic bag on top of it and walk away (by the way, I ALWAYS pick it up no matter how much I want to vomit but I pulled the pregnancy card today because my senses are on overload and the closest trashcan was so far away that I would have to walk by the bar below my house, which just couldn't happen because I was carrying a bag of lethal dog poop and they know me, I buy my milk from them).

My point is that I hate poop. I mean, I HATE POOP. More than the ordinary person. And as I tossed in bed last night, I just kept wondering "how in the world am I ever going to be able to change my baby's diaper." I honestly don't think that this motherly instinct will EVER kick in, and I'm not really sure I want it to kick in, either. I am pretty content with my dislike for poop.

Is this normal? I mean I know the answer to that...no it's not.