I have an 18-month-old little boy. BT is full of life, curiosity, love, and stubbornness. He’s my joy, my challenge, my daily workout, and my constant reminder that God’s love is never-ending.
Due to our wacko work schedules, I am able to be with him nearly every weekday morning until around noon. I love my Mr. Mom time with him, but it does mean that I get to experience the gross side, which many Dads may not ever see.
I was changing his diaper this morning.
Yes. A poop diaper.
He had eaten two waffles and most of his Momma’s oatmeal, which had explosive results.
So there I was, already stressed out, before I even took his diaper off. Why? Because I’m a weak little man? No. Stressed because this child INSISTS on shoving his hands into his poop. It drives me crazy. Seriously…it’s so gross!
We went thru the regular ritual of me taking off his diaper with one hand, while holding his hands back with the other, but he broke away (like he always does), and in .5 seconds, he had brown fingers. What’s worse? A second after that, he had a brown face. Frustrated doesn’t even cover it. I have warned him and clearly shouted “NO!” a thousand times….argh!
Here’s the deal: Mr. Poopface doesn’t only like to play in his butt gravy, but he also shoves his finger up his snotty little nose. His Momma says they should make a patent on his snot, because it is so sticky they could likely repair military jets with it.Poop and snot…and then there’s drool. Why are kids so nasty?! He is still waiting on one final bottom tooth to come in, which makes him drool like the dog from “The Sandlot”. Remember that dog? Gag me with a spoon.
What’s my point?
It’s this: BT is my little boy, my joy…and even though kids really are disgusting, he’s mine. He’s sometimes filthy, sticky, and smelly, but he’s all mine. When I look into his eyes, I see myself. He’s not a carbon copy, but he is obviously mine. BT has many of my characteristics, and he is fully dependent on me to provide for his every need. When he finally slows down for the day and comes walking up to me with both arms up, saying, “Da-ty”, all I want to do is scoop him up and snuggle with him until we fall asleep. I love him: snot and all.
And yes, our Father feels the same way about us. Sometimes our behavior stinks, our attitude is disgusting, and the grace we show to others is a “sticky situation”, but our Abba still looks at us, waiting for the moment when we turn to him and ask to be held.