As I write it is 6:23 a.m. This is a dramatic departure from my normal ambulatory time of 8:45 a.m. – Isaiah usually gets up with Mia these days and lets me snooze until he has to go to work. I think this is a noble thing on his part, considering my nocturnal awakenings with Maggie. This morning, however, I find myself up at what I consider the “oh my goodness!” part of the day, eating freeze dried apples I’ve stolen out of Mia’s snack box and sipping tea from my mug emblazoned with Mary Englebreits’ arty admonishment of: “Bloom Where You’re Planted.” Forgive me for being slightly less than interested in “blooming” at the moment.
I was awakened approximately 40 minutes ago by the impatient snufflings of Maggie, who had decided she was famished and MUST EAT NOW. This routine is old hat, so, I roll over, pick her up from the bassinet and let ‘er have at it. Minutes go by, me with my head propped against the headboard, desperately trying to hold on to the sleep state of affairs. She’s done, so I give her the burping and set her down to sleep again.
She begins to wuffle. She is obviously not happy and will continue to wuffle until I get her. I’ve done this with her before, too. So, I grab her again and check the diaper. Yep, that’s it. In a ridiculous lapse of judgment, I place her on the bed and strip the diaper off. As I reach for the replacement I feel it – the warmth and wetness that just shouldn’t be there. Ug. She’s gone to the bathroom, sans diaper. And it’s a decent amount, I’ll not only have to change the sheets, but also the mattress pad underneath. I glance at my sleeping husband and resign myself to finishing my night on the sofa… to change the bed right now would mean he’s getting up as well and I just don’t want to wake him and admit that with a changing table three feet away I chose to change the little one on the bed and have now been assessed the consequences.
I clean the little midget up… She’s in need of new clothes now, so I pull them out and begin to wrestle with the little snaps along the legs. At this point I’ve placed her at the foot of the bed and am leaning down. With absolutely no warning, the child, a.k.a. Mount Vesuvius, erupts with an enormous amount of vomit, targeting me at 2 feet away, bathing my entire midsection in milk that I was happy to get rid of 10 minutes ago! I gasp and jump back. This wakes Isaiah, who leaps out of bed, ready to do battle because his “manly sense” has just recognized something is amiss. Maggie grins at me and upchucks yet another amount of vomit, this one covering her own body and the foot of the bed. Oh, goody, I’ll be washing the bedspread as well.
And so, my morning begins. Isaiah has volunteered to take care of Maggie for the rest of the night (morning, rather) and I am here, at the computer, sipping tea and eating apples. I just scratched my nose and realized it smells like vomit. I suppose I’ll have to go wash my hands yet again.
Thank you for putting up with the excruciating details of my morning. Sometimes it just makes me feel better to get it out. J
I had intended to write a few days ago to tell you about Mia’s potty adventure. We got a baby potty and put it in the bathroom to start getting her used to the idea of potties, not diapers. We tell her that that’s where “big girls” go to the bathroom and I won’t let her touch the toilet paper roll, telling her that she has to wait until she goes “big girl potty” to touch it.
Well, right after bath time the other day she looks at me and earnestly begins to mumble, “Poopie, poopie, poopie…” She had just finished unloading a prime diaper that I had changed, so I wasn’t convinced she knew what she was talking about. But, what the heck?, I set her down on the potty and told her to start pushing. She got the vacant look in her eyes that told me she was doing her best to follow my instructions. I continued about my after-bath business, lotion, ears being swabbed out, hair brushing. Then she made some noise and I discovered she had actually gone to the bathroom in the potty! Much joy and rejoicing over that one! She was quite proud of herself and continued to chant, “Poopie! Poopie! Poopie!” I let her play with the toilet paper and frantically flush the toilet.
This had another side effect. Day before yesterday I was coming out of the shower and Mia caught sight of my bare bottom. She grabbed a Wal-Mart bag and ran up behind me to “wipe.” I rescued the bag from being thrown into the toilet just in time.
So, that’s our child news. Mia is one step closer to potty training, Maggie is doing well and excelling at eruptions. Fall has arrived here in Bartlesville and the landscape is awash in the most amazing colors… while the weather is still beautiful. Life is pretty good, I’d say, as long as I have a working washing machine and access to hand soap.
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