Wow. So, I’m pretty sure Little Mister is going through a growth spurt right now. Either that or he’s been possessed by some all-you-can-eat-boobie-buffet spirit today. Last night he was waking to eat every hour or so*. Well, it’s not really “waking” when all you do is turn toward the food source with your mouth gaping wide open and paw at your mom’s nursing tank while grunting in your sleep. At least he’s finally figured out that I’m the one to paw at and not just any body part he may be facing. (My Mister has been startled awake a few times by Little Mister trying to nurse on his arm. Makes me giggle just thinking about it.) I try to appease the little guy before he does wake up and start wailing his, “GIVE ME FOOD NOW!” battle cry. Also, I feel a little guilty hearing his loud, slightly labored breathing as I remember that I should have removed his boogers before going to bed so he could actually breathe at night. (Am I the only one who goes “fishing” with a tightly rolled tissue for his snot instead of using the booger-sucker-bulb? Maybe I shouldn’t put this out there for all to see, but I must admit I get a little thrill when I notice there’s a little bat in the cave that needs to be removed. OH GOODY! A booger for me to fetch! It’s a sickness, I know.)
Anywho, the real problem with eating all night long- other than ensuring your mother does not sleep AT.ALL. during the night thus making her slightly delirious in the morning. So delirious she does strange things such as not quite make eye contact as she’s stalking your nose mucus as soon as you wake. Maybe if you LET YOUR MOM SLEEP, she wouldn’t be chasing you with rolled up tissue so much. Just a thought.
Ahem. As I was saying, the real problem with eating all night long is that all that milk will eventually need to come out. Just in case you are not sure where I’m going with this, that milk comes out as poop. LOTS AND LOTS OF POOP.
Oh dear God- the amount of poop that comes out of such a little person. *shudder* Now, I’m not a diaper expert or anything, but I’m pretty sure that when there is more poop on me than what is trapped in the diaper, that is called a DIAPER FAIL. I might as well have stuck a paper towel on his butt. A wet one with a large hole in it.
There I was, lovingly holding Little Mister on my lap while we watched Murder She Wrote when all of a sudden I heard the telltale grunts and then felt the bubbly farts letting me know that his food finally finished cooking. Then the wet warmth on my lap let me know that this loving moment would not end well for me. Sure enough, a large, wet, yellow spot started growing on my pajama bottoms- and then made a run for it down my leg while shouting, “FREEEEEEDOM!!!” When the second wave of bubbly farts started its world tour, I realized I may need to incinerate Little Mister’s pajamas because there’s not enough water in the world to wash out all that poop.
I quickly put him on the changing pad on the floor and started ripping off his clothes so that he wouldn’t marinate in that yellow brew and then bravely went for the diaper. It was once I took off the diaper that I realized that the Poop World Tour included a trip all the way up his back and down his legs. Seriously- what was the point of putting a diaper on him at all?? It was only by the grace of God that I was able to put a new diaper on him at that moment because it was precisely at that moment that I also noticed that I had a huge poop stain on my nursing tank, as well.
Now, I’m pretty sure this isn’t the professional mother’s way of handling things like this, but I’m still new at this game, so cut me some slack. I was totally grossed out by this point and could only think, “GET IT OFF OF ME! GET IT OFF OF ME!!” There may have been some slight screaming of, “EEEWWWWWWW!” as I jumped off the floor and started striping on my way to the laundry room. I didn’t even care (or notice) that my blinds were open and that my new neighbors may have gotten a little bit of a show from the new Yank next door. (So glad to do America proud, y’all.)
I continued on my way to the shower since I knew I had poop on my stomach, arms, and legs and that baby wipes just weren’t going to cut it. Once I was showered and feces free again, I put on some clean clothes, sighed in relief, and then it was at this point that I realized I LEFT MY BABY ALL ALONE ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR. You can see now why I’m glad I put that diaper on him when I did. I almost left a deadly weapon of poop destruction unsupervised on my living room floor. Whew. Barely dodged the “Bad Mother Award.”
After looking around to see if my new neighbors saw what I did and were now calling CPS, I wrestled with what I should do next – take him a bath or stick a cork in his butt? I finally thought it was only fair to bathe him since I was clean and, besides, the built up pressure from a corked butt could result in one of us losing an eye.
By the time he was fresh, clean, and poop free, he let me know it was time to replenish his ammunition stores. The other thing about this particular growth spurt is that, besides being really cranky today, he only wanted to nurse while lying down in bed. This was fine by me since I figured I could catch some much needed sleep. So, down we went. He started eating as I lovingly looked down at him wondering how anything so perfect could be mine. And that’s when the bubbly farts started again. *HUGE SIGH* This time instead of striping myself, I had to strip the bed. What made this worse is the fact that I had just washed the sheets yesterday. So much for getting some sleep today. Anyone have a snotty nose that needs to be cleaned??
* He’s actually been eating like that all day long. I had to cancel my much needed chiropractic appointment this afternoon because I’m pretty sure it’s not easy to adjust a woman with a cranky, slightly smelly baby grafted to her bosom.