Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Disaster Strikes

So when Brian got his schedule for the month and I found out that he would be going on alert on Father's Day, I was bummed.  I love holidays and even though he doesn't consider Father's Day a very big deal, I do and was looking forward to spending the day together as a family. Turns out that Brian being at work on this particular Father's Day was actually a present in itself.
The morning couldn't have gone better for me. The girls were sleeping wonderfully. In fact, Kait slept straight from 8-5:30, ate, and fell back asleep. I got to leisurely wake up at 7:45, shower, get ready for the day and talk on the phone all before the girls had even started to wake up. I was having the best morning! In fact, I was on the phone with my friend, Liz, telling her just how great my day was already. Pretty much bragging about all the sleep I had gotten. Then around 8:30, both girls start to wake up so I stay on the phone while I get Nuggs out of her crib. Then take the baby and the phone with me to Mack's room. This is when disaster strikes! I open the door, turn on the light, and there it is: my half-naked child, pants and diaper off, and the very distinct smell of poop. As my eyes start to focus in on the scene, I realize the gravity of this situation. There is poops everywhere I am looking! On her face, her legs, her hands, her Bun-Buns, her sheets, the crib railings! Everywhere but...the diaper! Of course! I don't even know what to do. I'm still in the doorway, holding the baby, listening to my friend saying something that I wasn't even listening to anymore, and the first reaction I could manage was to laugh. Yes, I started laughing at the sight of a poop-covered baby. I quickly tell Liz that I have to go because my child has covered her crib in poop and have to figure out some way to deal with it, then I put Nuggs down on the play-mat, still unsure of what needs to happen next. The first thing I try is baby wipes on her face and hands. This pretty much gets me nowhere. Then I decide that what I actually need to do first is empty her crib so that the poop doesn't get on any more of her things. After I have accomplished that I resort back to the baby wipes. Again, nothing. This stuff is staying put! So after some more laughing, and some more of Mack looking at me like, "What, Mom? I don't see what the problem is." I decide that the only way to effectively clean her is to stick her in the shower.  She hates showers! But I manage to carry her (a very long arm-length's away) to the shower and stick her in there. She screamed the whole time I scrubbed off the poo, but by that point it was starting to be a little less funny, especially since I could hear Kait crying, so I scrubbed away at her until every last bit of poop was washed away. It was quite the dramatic experience for all of us. But, like I said, at least Brian didn't have to clean up poop on Father's Day. I do believe it was the best present I could have gotten for him.