An Unexpected Part of my Life

This is a completely random post.  You have been warned.

I have learned that, as a parent, there are a few different ways to tell if your child has a dirty diaper:
1. Peek/stick a finger down the back of the diaper.  This one doesn't generally work with Paxton since he's usually wearing a onesie so you can't access said back of the diaper.

2. Strip said child down and actually undo the diaper to check it out.  This is not generally the way we operate around here since Paxton has entered the "diaper changes are by far the most cruel thing in the world and I have no idea why my horrible Mother subjects me to this torture multiple times a day and I will contort my body into positions only seen on "The Exorcist" in the hopes of preventing her from finishing said task" phase.  So I try to only do this when he actually needs a diaper change.

3. The "sniff test."  (I'm fairly certain I don't need to elaborate on this but I will just in case there are non-parents out there who are unaware of what this entails.)  This one is my method of choice.  It's not something that I enjoy, but you gotta do what you gotta do (and it beats sticking your finger down there and getting a nasty surprise. blech).  Pick the child up until his derriere is in front of your nose and take a whiff.  Not overly complicated, but also not very pleasant.  But really there's nothing pleasant about diapers.

You may be wondering why I've broached this particularly unpleasant topic.  I'm getting to that.  I'm sure I've mentioned before that we have 2 furry kids in addition to the Rugrat.  Mo is a Boxer.  It is a known fact that Boxers are quite flatulent ... and oh good Heavens do they ever STINK!  (You can almost see it, like in the cartoons when it's a green vapour that never quite dissipates but instead defies the laws of nature and just keeps expanding.)  Well, Mo's farts smell exactly like Paxton's dirty diapers (this could possibly be because Paxton loves to feed the dogs whatever he's supposed to be eating when I'm not looking).  So this means that I spend a large portion of my time with Paxton smelling his bum to determine whether the smell is emanating from him or if it's yet another foul emission that has eeked out of the Big Dog.

This is definitely not something I thought would be such a big part of my role as Mom.  C'est la vie!