After dropping Faith off at school Ava and I come home, she drinks a bottle of formula*, and we sit around and play for about 15 minutes. I go to check my email, my online auction, and of course the blogs. Ava follows me to the dining room turned office. It is about that time I notice a smell. A very bad, very pungent, very smelly smell.
*I know I am a huge breastfeeding advocate, but this kid can snarf down two 8 ounce bottles of formula BEFORE she comes to drain me dry (and leave teeth marks on The Girls) and THEN she wants to gobble up part of a chicken biscuit. That is all before 8:15am. She wakes at 7:15am. You see where this is going?
Ava has pooped.
Having just left K with an anecdote on her blog (a very true anecdote) of how I sometimes refuse to change a diaper and call Jef at his work to see if he will come home and do it for me, it seems only right that karma would perform a wee smack down on my smart ass.
I sent an instant message to Jef asking why the baby can't produce a brown trout on HIS shift. He laughed. I knew what I had to do...
...I had to put Ava in a smell-proof receptacle until Jef got home this afternoon!
No, please don't call family and children services on me. I only thought about doing that for just a minute. Besides, they don't make smell proof containers that can handle what she'd just made, so... I gathered Ava up and we went for clean up on aisle 5.
I have never seen such a splatter pattern in my whole life. The diaper appeared to have had a chunky peanut butter bomb blowup inside of it. And the smell, well it wasn't so much the smell as it was the burning of my eyes. My throat closed up. I started wiping frantically with the much too small, much too thin "premium" wipes. What I really needed was a squeegie and a high-pressure garden hose. Of course Ava attempted a crocodile death-roll mid change (must take away the Animal Planet channel) and managed to smear doodie on her legs, her back, and her feet (which I still clung frantically to). It's hard enough to hold a wiggling toddler. I don't need the added lubrication of dook to help that along.
Finally, all was clean and tidy and a new diaper was strapped on. I pick Ava up off the changing table, she coos and giggles at me, hugs me, and then pokes me in the eye as a sign of her appreciation.
--The Milk Maid uses a lot of hand soap
9/13/07
Thursday Morning....
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6 comments:
YUCK! The formula will do that every time!
that. was. nasty. i was eating breakfast... but not anymore.
: ) i think i had forgotten about diaper duty.
There goes my lunch. :) J/K. Yay on getting through the diaper! Woo-hoo!! Yay on the surge!! That's exciting!
I think about you a lot girl and hope you're doing okay. Hang in there. :)
Oh my!!!!!!!!!!!! Yuck.... I tell Jef to get home quick the next time and change that diaper :) Just kidding Jef!
lol!! the other day dp was changing baby indigoscot and had the diaper off and his legs in the air ready to scoot on the new one...when...there was explosive poop! yup, nice chicken korma coloured poop came shooting out of his wee ass and splattered dp from her hair down to her knees. she screamed at me to come help clean up but, well, that kinda poop just smears. i dispatched her to take a shower while i finished cleaning up and re-dressing baby indigoscot. fun, fun!! :)
It never ceases to amaze me that something so cute and small (relatively)can produce something so nasty. I've had 3 pound babies who I swear lost half their body weight by filling their diaper. Oh and indigoscott I had a baby once shoot poop across the room in front of dad while I was changing him and pronouncing I had never been peed on by a boy. I thought the dad was going to fall over laughing at me.
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