Oh Poops!

Almost 3 years ago, my dear husband and I were in Target, again. I was pregnant with my first child and trying to follow everyone's sage advice, I was stocking up on diapers. My hubby did not get this at all.
Him:"We already have 3 boxes of diapers. We could open our own diaper store." (Okay, for the sake of the story I may ad lib a little because, it was over 3 years ago!)

Me: "Um, you know babies poop, right? Like, alot; 12 or more diapers a day, alot."

Him: "WHAT?" This could be heard in every corner of Target. Not kidding.

Me: "Have you heard anything I have been saying for the past 8 months? You do know we are having a baby, right? You do know babies poop, right? Have you read any of the books I gave you?"

Him: "Um.. ..Uh. ..yea, but I haven't gotten to that part. 12 or more? NO WAY!" Again, far louder than necessary since I was stand right next to him. Literally. He was looking at me as if I had told him Bigfoot was living in our basement.

This exchange caused quite a little giggle fest in the diaper aisle. One Mama walked by and patted my husband on the arm and said, "12 OR MORE!" She walked away laughing. This makes me giggle just remembering.

So, not much later, Eli arrived. What a joy. What a transition and the affirmation from the nameless Mama in Target was right on the money. Often more than 12 diapers were used a day. Hubby could still not believe the amount of poop such a tiny person could produce. As much as I tried in the early days to fight it, I could not. His nickname stuck: Mr. Poop. He graduated to Prof. Poop in daycare and his loving caregivers could not believe his production as well. (He is amazing in other ways too, but this has just been incredible.) So he is Mr. Poops, Poops, Stinky Butt Boy and Poopsy.

So, Mr. Poopsy has the Pox. (Hey, this sounds like an awesome kid's book! Perhaps that should be my next project.) Most people have been sympathetic and supportive with remedies and such. . . .but some. Well, some have not. Some near and dear people felt the need to tell me all the awful things that chicken pox could bring. Blindness. Hospitalization. Infections. Ugh. We have all had the chicken pox, well everyone except my hubby, but that is another story. And we all survived. Without going blind. Without hospitalization. Without cause for worry. Yes, it was no fun, but we survived. We didn't sprout feathers. We might have scarred, but we did not perish. We simply itched and moaned and got over it. It seems some people actively choose to live in fear, and search it out.

Have pox, will weed whack.

So, to prove those fears wrong:

You can still smile with the pox.

and do yard work.

Life is such an adventure. Fear is normal, but dwelling on fear clouds judgement and hides the joy. Why would anyone want to hide from joy? There is too much joy to dwell on fear. And too much yard work.