I know this is my second poop related post in a row. I promise to return to regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.
Jonathan says “Blog it. Be real. Blog about this stuff, the real stuff.”
“You just want to pull it out of the archives and force me to remember it all when I start saying I want another baby.”
“Yes, that is correct. AND IT WILL WORK.”
Baby begins teething, cuts first tooth.
He gets a virus that knocks him out with a red, raw, sore throat.
Begins the SLOW process of cutting his second bottom tooth.
Baby gets a full-on cold (with tons of congestion, a yucky cough and lots of snot to be sucked up).
I get baby’s cold.
Two more teeth (top canines – I HAVE A VAMPIRE BABY!) begin making their way out.
Please tell me it has been 5,638 days since Easter because it really, truly feels like it’s been that long. Since Easter, Larkin has refused almost all solids (which means he’s nursing almost non-stop), is not sleeping well (or at all, unless I’m next to him), and doesn’t want anything to do with anyone that isn’t me.
So, we’re getting lots of bonding time
WHETHER I WANT TO OR NOT which is wonderful, of course.
But yesterday, it was an absolutely beautiful Saturday, and I had a pressing phone call to make (and YES. A sorority sister to whom I haven’t spoken to in over a month IS a pressing phone call). So I plopped Larkin in his jumperoo, turned on some Wonder Pets, and saluted Jonathan (who was in the room with the baby, but working).
I went out to the backyard, and enjoyed the sunshine while catching up with Amber. After awhile, I heard happy jumping noises turn into grumpy ones, so I went back in to get him. I noticed that his diaper was smelling ripe, so I shouldered the phone and asked his daddy to change him. Being the good man he is, he took Larkin and headed for the changing table while I continued my conversation.
A few seconds later, Jonathan shouts that he needs my help. He sounds frantic, so I run into the room. I scope the situation – possibly the most major poop we’ve encountered in the entirety of our son’s life – and tell Amber I will have to call her back. Jonathan does a one-handed baby hogtie in futile attempts to keep a soiled bum off the changing pad and tiny hands out of the mess while I begin cleaning up the situation.
All the sudden, Larkin lets out a furious scream. For a split second, we dismiss it as the usual temper tantrum he has started to throw during every diaper change. Then we realize that in our efforts, the changing pad had slipped, knocking his tiny noggin into the wall of the changing table. We adjust, apologize, and continue cleaning.
Once he ws basically clean, I told Jonathan to just strip him, and I’d just give him a bath. So he stands him on the bed to remove his onesie while I prepare the tub. I hear Jonathan sigh – Larkin is peeing all over the bed.
Jonathan gathers up the diapers, bedding, changing pad, onesie, and any other casualties of the Great Diaper Disaster of 2011 and starts a load of laundry while I drop Larkin in his ducky tub. He thinks it’s pretty funny to get a bath in the middle of the day. He lays back, reclined against the side of the tub – and pees (again) right into his face. This is met with righteous indignation, and dirty looks at me (as if I’ve caused it!).
So I grab the J&J baby wash, and suds the kid up as fast as possible. I go to wipe the soap off his face, and he throws himself backwards, hitting his head on the side of the tub (not hard enough to really hurt, just hard enough to scare himself). While he’s still inhaling the scream, I snatch him out of the tub, and haul his dripping, furious self out of the bathroom.
I pat him dry with his towel, kiss away his tears, and get him diapered and dressed. And then?