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I am a below knee amputee. More importantly, I am also Mommy to two boys, a very active 10 year old (Robby) and an mischievous toddler (Timmy). I have learned that being a parent with a disability can create some unusual and sometimes humorous situations. This blogger is available for hire! Let's talk and learn how a blog can expand your business.

Tuesday, May 06, 2014

What's that Smell?

It has been a long time since I've cared for a newborn on a daily basis, and I have to admit that the adjustment has been difficult. I don't remember being this tired when Robby was little, although I'm sure that I was and I just don't remember. At this point I feel like I'm floating through the days on sleep deprived autopilot. Of course, the fact that Timmy has to be fed every 90 minutes certainly contributes to my fatigue factor.

As luck would have it, I am not the only one having a difficult time adjusting to life with a newborn. Charlie Cat has not responded favorably to our newest family member. He leaves the baby alone, but has taken his wrath out on all of the equipment and toys. His ammunition of choice is urine.

My house now smells like a giant litter box. I have tried to shower Charlie Cat with attention, but he seems unimpressed by my efforts. He continues to spray his odoriferous offense whenever the opportunity arises. I bought a pheromone diffuser which is touted to help felines with stressful adjustments, and I'm hoping that it works. Unfortunately, the seven days that are required for results to be reaped is going to feel like a smelly eternity!

The spraying has been noticeable for a few days, but yesterday the odor was particularly pungent. I figured that Charlie must have struck again, and this time it was with a vengeance. With Timmy asleep in his swing, I went sniffing around the house like a blood hound trying to find a trail. No matter where I went, the smell remained constant. It was as if my entire house was swallowed by a litter box.

I finally gave up and headed out to my doctor's appointment. The smell followed, as if it was somehow adhering to the fabric of my clothes. I sat on the exam table of my OB/GYN and wondered if she could smell the odor as well? I thought better about asking and proceeded to pretend like I didn't smell anything out of the ordinary.

As I was getting dressed after my exam, I grabbed my prosthetic and felt something sticky and wet. I rubbed my fingers together, trying to discern the substance. After a quick sniff I was left with no doubt. Charlie Cat had not peed throughout my house. Seeking the ultimate "you had a baby and I'm angry" revenge, he had played his cards well. He had thoroughly coated prosthesis with his ammonia laden urine while I was sleeping.  No wonder the smell seemed to follow me around!

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