One of the things I dread about parenthood is diapers and everything that comes with it. I would definitely not be aunt of the year if it came down to diaper changing. I avoid it like the plague that it is. I can tolerate the number ones. Once, I got stuck with a fully loaded diaper and I thought I was going to be sick. The stench was so offensive and as I was changing it, I felt this lump rise up from the pit of my stomach and get lodged into my throat. I became nauseated and I couldn't stop gagging as my eyes from welled with water. It was as awful as I thought it was going to be.
I hear parents joke about disgusting bodily fluids becoming projectile and getting in the worst places, like in mommy's hair or on daddy's rented tux. I have to say that I am not amused by these stories. It completely grosses me out. Some claim that it comes with the territory, you're earning your stripes, or that you get used to it. Parents like to downplay how horrible something like this is. I don't think I'll ever stop being disgusted by someone else's excrement, even if it is from my own child.
Of course, I will have to learn to cope with this at least for a little while. I guess I technically could move out to a farm somewhere and let my children wander around without anything on and teach them to squat in a field or something and just hose them off when they're done. Alas, I do like city life and this condo will be really hard to sell. So, I guess I'm stuck with learning to cope and potty training them as soon as possible.
According to my husband's family legend, my husband was potty trained at 18 months. I don't think I knew this was even possible, but now that I know it can be done, it's on. I will buy up every book and employ every technique I can to minimize my exposure to anything becoming projectile that shouldn't.
So, when I have kids, I will potty train them at 18 months.