* Weak stomached individuals need to get your S & G's elsewhere*
I have done this baby thing six times. You would think I would know by now...
Little Carter has an ear infection. Simple enough. Throw some antibiotics at the kid and its a day at the park. I am very allergic to penicillins, like Violet Beauregard looks anorexic compared to me just from touching it, allergic. That means that my kids surpass the easy peasy and go for the big dogs.
That is a game changer.
Last chance to walk away, people. Challenge accepted? It's your purse you're puking in...
Carter has a rachet stomach to begin with. The kid doesn't crap. I try to give her solids and she is purple faced for a week. Nurse her, same. Formula, same with a side of projectile vomiting. It's a real prize.
So now that you know her bowel cycle and the fact she is on antibiotics, lets reminise about what happened yesterday. Unfortunately, there were sequals today. We are up to a quadrequal- a new word, your welcome.
Yesterday she was fussy and I picked her up. I felt a weird squish on her back. You know *that* squish. Skin on skin with a little, uhem, extra.
The look of horrification upon my face scared Carter.
As she started to cry the contents of her diaper started to well up and spill out even more all over my arm and farther up her back. I took her upstairs to my bathroom and started the tub. I have a garden tub and a bad back. So I stripped down into my underwears and got in to hold her up in the water.
I have no clue what I was thinking. I had taken off her shirt but had missed a very vital thing, the diaper. When a diaper gets soaked it swells and it explodes. Between the turds and the diaper gel, the bathtub drain clogs.
I am literally swimming in sewage.
I am trying to hold her up with one hand- since she is not quite a sitter (add an h and you are spot on) and scoop the crap-laced gel from the tub.
I have this thing. I laugh at the most inappropriate times. I can't help it. You hit your head and bleed all over, I laugh until I cry. I am laughing so hard I am crying, but the thought of sitting in a tub of shat with diaper beads makes me dry heeve. So it goes a little like this. Scoop. Scoop. Gag. Laugh. Wipe tear, hoping there has been no oversplash. Scoop. Gag. You get the point.
It was UGLY. And then Carter spit. And by spit, I mean fill a bucket with curdled breastmilk. I looked at her face. When I took off her shirt somehow I had smeared poop all over her cheek and on her lip. All I can say is, I am so glad it was her own...
I wipe her face and just lay her on a towel on the floor so I can clean the tub. Get it clean so we give this another go.
I put her in the tub, and get in. The water is running Cam, the 5 year old, is playing on my phone and sitting on my sink and kicking the cabinet below. The phone volume is turned all the way up. My bathroom has vaulted ceillings, so all sound travels. Carter is a preemie, and is over-stimulated very easily. All the sound was too much.
She started to cry. The more tears, the more poop. What does a 7 month old baby do when they are sitting in water? Yep. Turd-drums. Her "music" was everywhere. Her hair, my hair. Eyelashes, arm pits. Window sil, grout. All of it. Droplets of human feces and bathwater. Everywhere.
At this point I figured she was done. There couldn't possibly be more. I stood up with her and just about to get out and clean up the mess. I turned her around and said " What have you done little girl?" She smiled and put her hand in my mouth.
She put her muddy water hands in my mouth.
I lost it. There wasn't a dry heeve in the house.
So let's put this into perspective. Carter crapped up the water. Splashed it everywhere, put her crap-infected hand in my mouth. I puked, standing in the tub. I am stepping out of the tub and then I hear it. The ahh ahh that preceeds the choo. I turned as fast as I could and held that 13 pound turkey butt over the tub.
I will never be able to look at a super soaker the same way again. Same sound, different substance.
It went a little like this: ah ah choo shpaaah splat. aaah choo schplaaaah splat. aaah schoo plllt.
The plllt was a fart. Signifying the end of the war with Carty's intestines.
Mom- 0 Crap- more than I can count...