Posts Tagged ‘ heat wave ’

Here Goes: My Dirty Diaper Confession

Friday, May 16th, 2014

I have a confession: I threw one of Emmett’s poop diapers in someone else’s trash. It wasn’t exactly intentional, but now I don’t know what to do. Ack. Here’s how it went down:

I don’t put poop diapers in the Diaper Dekor. Instead, I tie them up in little plastic baggies and dispose of them in our outside garbage. Otherwise I feel like I can smell the odor.

However, it’s a heat wave right now. Today’s high is 102-degrees. So even outside, our garbage is starting to smell. Everyone’s does. We live in the hills in Los Angeles, so the garbage bins are all curbside, in the direct sun. It’s really disgusting. The garbage trucks only come once a week, so you can imagine after a few day how it smells. The lids are kept down and it’s bearable, but as soon as you lift the lid up to toss something in, you have to hold your breath, throw, and run.

Not only do we have diapers, but we also have Wayne’s fecal matter to deal with. Even coated in scoopable liter, it’s still so gross I can barely write this without gagging. None of this helps my cleaning obsession.

This morning, Emmett had a particularly bad diaper.  I did my usual baggie system and we got ready to leave the house. But when I went to put the diaper in the outside bin, I realized the garbage truck had already come. I can’t stand the idea of this awful diaper being in there for a whole week, especially during this heat wave. So instead, I took the bagged diaper in my car, held my breath, cranked the a/c, and drove down the hill looking to see who had a closed lid. That usually indicates the garbage truck hasn’t hit that block yet (after they dump the garbage out of the bins, the lids stay open until you manually close them).

Soon enough, I saw a row of closed bins. I stopped the car, lifted the lid of one, and looked in. There was a little bit of trash at the bottom and since the lid was closed, as were the 3 bins at the houses nearby, I decided it hadn’t been picked up. I put the diaper in the bin, knowing since it’s garbage day, a truck would come around soon.

I hopped back in the car and continued on down the hill. I started noticing that a lot of the garbage cans had their lids open. I began to doubt that I made the right call. Maybe the truck had already come and just hadn’t hoisted it up high enough to get all the trash at the bottom out. And maybe the owner went out right after and closed his/her lid. And maybe the same thing happened to the 3 houses surrounding it. And maybe now, that diaper is going to sit in their trash for a week.

Does anyone have a solution for stinky garbage cans for the time between garbage day?

I’m sitting here obsessing about what to do. Do I drive back and root through the garbage and pull it out? The bins are huge so I don’t know if I could reach the bottom without putting the bin on its side. Then I would have to crawl in–as of now it’s already 97-degrees. This could get ugly fast. Should I buy a box of baking soda and dump it in their trash? Or Clorox? Or does that seem like a violation even though I’m doing it to remedy a situation? What if they see me? How would I explain myself? Maybe I just let it go and hope that this bad bit of karma doesn’t come back to bite me. Maybe I do something really nice for someone today to make up for it. Maybe I have too much time on my hands…

Three days ago I wrote about my latest obsession with the toxicity of plastic. My plan today was to channel some Zen and write about my new garden. Clearly I threw that idea out the window when I threw a bag of sh-t in my nearby neighbor’s garbage. Even if I didn’t mean for it to stay.

Who else has done something small, but significant, that looks stupid in retrospect? Anyone care to confess? If nothing else, to make me feel less like a crumb?

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How to Change a Diaper
How to Change a Diaper
How to Change a Diaper

Diaper pic via shutterstock

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Why Do I Have Bad Barf Karma?

Saturday, August 31st, 2013

I must have really pissed off the vomit gods in my past life. I was a child puker because, like my daughter, I battled carsickness. I also threw up a decent amount in my college drinking days. But apparently that–and the many times Fia has barfed during the worst possible scenarios–are still not enough to give me a free pass. The gods continue to punish me.

We are still in our rental house while our new home is being renovated. The whole first floor here has no air-conditioning. It is 100+ degrees today. I have no sitter and a 3 1/2 year old and an 18-month old to entertain.

I decided to take them to the Natural History Museum, here in Los Angeles. It’s not too far, it’s a straight shot on the highway, and it has two super huge, dark, cold rooms. In this heat I have dreamt about these rooms. Specifically, I’ve dreamt about re-creating myself as a giant stuffed elephant.

We left early because I wanted to make sure I got them back in time to nap. The upstairs, where all the bedrooms are, is air-conditioned. At that time of day, it’s about the only place you can be in the sweltering heat.

We were cruising down the highway when Fia started complaining that her throat hurt. You know where this is going…. But, hear me out. Lately this has been her tactic to get a lollipop. She knows I usually have some on me. They are my crutch when I really do think she needs to barf. As we were leaving, she saw me put two in my pocket and wouldn’t stop talking about them. So I figured it was a ploy. I ignored.

Just as we exited off the highway and into the museum parking lot, the barf began to pour out. Copious amounts. It was awful. Especially because it stank so badly, I was forced to roll down the windows. It was that awful that I needed smog filled, 102-degree air to keep me from barfing too.

My hyper-but-laid-back-Emmett didn’t seem fazed. And honestly, at this point, I wasn’t really either. Except…except… I needed a Laundromat. I had no change of clothes for her and she was sitting in a bowl of barf. Problem was, we were in a neighborhood where crime rates are high.  In fact, there was an armed robbery a week ago at the Lavenderia that Yelp guided me to.  But doing a quick risk/benefit analysis, I decided that I’d rather be robbed than drive around smelling like vomit. 

I actually carried Fia in her huge car seat. (Thank god I do bootcamp.) I wanted to contain the barf as much as possible.  I stripped her down and threw my sweatshirt on her.  An hour later, dripping in sweat and exhausted from entertaining two kids by watching machines spin, and sucking on the lollipops I should have used in the first place, (at 103 degrees the vacant lot didn’t seem like a suitable play space anyway) I lugged my now-clean car seat back to the car. I really wanted to go home. It was nearly nap time at this point. I was a mess. You can trick an 18-month into thinking the Laundromat was the day’s adventure. It’s not so easy with a 3 1/2 year old. As I started the engine, Fia says:

“Mommy, are we going to the museum now?”

So you can guess how I spent the rest of my afternoon…




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