Saturday brought my first nighttime diaper blowout situation. Wow. That is a whole new level of clean-up. Around 4 in the morning the Bean started crying. Like a good Ferber Follower I let her cry for a bit, but she was not settling down like she normally did. So in I went to reassure her that I was still around if she truly needed me. Oh, she needed me alright! My daughter was laying in a big wet spot of leaky poo. I scooped her up and got her out of her pjs and began the great clean up. I had to turn on the light to see what was going on. And I had to put her in her Bumbo so I could use both hands to clean up. So she thought it was time to be awake and was looking up at me happy as a clam, naked save her diaper. Meanwhile I'm elbow deep in hot soapy water to rinse out her jammies and sheet. Poo rinsed out, I picked her up and turned off all of the lights when all of a sudden she projectile spit-up onto my foot. Great, whatever, nothing I can do about the chunky spit up between my toes at the moment. Into some new pjs she went and back into the crib. But she thought it was time to be awake so the crying/screaming/wailing began. "Ferber, Ferber, Ferber.... I can be strong... let her cry for a bit," at this point I need someone to pat my tummy and stroke my hair and reassure me that everything will be okay. Five minutes go by -- in I go, out I go. Seven minutes go by -- in I go, out I go. Finally she got her self back to sleep. Just as I breathed a sigh of relief -- PEANUT! Our wonderful, old, blind, neurotic dog began the I-have-to-pee dance which includes hot, stinky breath up in my face. Down the stairs we go. It is at this point that I realize the night is a total waste. There will be no rest for me. Once baby, dog, and mommy were all settled into bed the remainder of the early morning was peppered with whimpers from all three. Somewhere around 7 AM the Bean won (like she always does) and there we were, awake. Around 8 I decided coffee and pancakes would probably make the day a little easier.
Sometimes as I write these posts I think, "Experienced parents out there must think I'm so ridiculous." I fear that I write like these are huge important crazy experiences, because they are to me. But other parents must just think, "Duh, Kylie, that's the way it is. Get used to it." Oh well. At least I have something to write about.