Sunday, August 31, 2008

No one told me I'd be doing this.

There are times when, as a mother, you simply just must shake your head and wonder why you never read about this in the baby books. The reason? Because it would scare the living daylights out of you in your young, naive, pre-motherhood days. Not until you've held that little bundle of joy, nuzzled her sweet, soft skin, and drunk in her marvelous giggles can you contemplate doing the things that motherhood requires of you.

I had one of those head-shaking times this morning.

I went up to get Abby out of her crib before dawn, with sleep still in my eyes. Imagine my confusion when I looked into her crib and did not see the adorable form of a baby outlined by crisp white sheets, but a dark mass that spread out the width of the crib. When I reached down to feel her, I did not feel sweet soft baby, but dried and flaky goo. At first I believed I had happened upon a grisly murder scene, but when I turned on the lights, I realized that she was not covered in blood, but poop.

Now I do try very hard to not go into disgusting detail on my blog. Even when the story is about processing chickens or even running them over with a lawn mower. I mean, after all, I don't know who will be reading or when. The last thing I want is someone sitting down to their computer with their morning breakfast only to happen upon my blog and spew said breakfast all over their screen. That just wouldn't be nice. And that is the reason I will spare you the photos that I could have taken this morning. It would've been ugly.

Instead, I will share this one with you.
Abby. Without the poop.

Apparently there was a major poop party going on in Abby's crib last night. One in which diapers were not required. For, you see, she removed hers. And then pooped. And then partied. And then fell asleep in the middle of it all.

I found her this morning with poop in her hair, her nose, her ears, and even her lips. There was poop on the slats of her crib and spread far and wide over her sheets and clothes. In fact, you could see her cute little handprints and finger smears in the midst of the big poopy mess formerly known as sheets.

She required two baths this morning because after the first one, I could still detect the faint odor of poop in her hair.

And that little red spot on her face? I think that may be the beginnings of diaper rash.

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