or, “Sometimes it’s just okay to throw away the onesie.”
or, “This is why I couldn’t handle cloth diapers.”
Anyway, a progression of my thoughts from approxiamately 2:20-2:35 p.m. today.
2:20 Hmm, Lucia sounds like she’s not going to fall back asleep again. Guess I should take her out so I can remove her mattress sheet and start laundry.
2:20:10, while walking to the baby room I’m so clever, timing laundry in between baby naps and already having pre-treated her poo-saturated clothes with enough Shout! to drown a small animal so that I don’t have to use up valuable baby-awake time (read: pre-metldown indicating the need for another nap) slaving over the laundry room sink instead of cleaning her sheets.
2:20:13 OMG IT’S EVERYWHERE; THERE IS POO ALL OVER THE BABY AND HER CLOTHES AND HER BED AND GAAAAAHHHH
2:20:15, while extricating the baby from her basinette, bringing her to the changing table, and trying not to hold her against me despite the fact that her arms and legs are flapping at an approxiamate rate of 5 flaps/sec. Child why are you smiling and giggling: do you know how revolting this is.
2:21 So much for the cute outfit I put you in this morning: white long-sleeved onesie, Old Navy floral smock and purple leggings from your grandma. Your father thinks it makes you look like a Floridian retiree, but you and I know better.
2:21:02 So….I was going to store this onesie away after today anyway….[furtive glance at the diaper pail] Yeah we’re just tossing it.
2:21:25 Oh gosh, is that a light brown smear I see on your forearm? And your foot? The one with which you just learned yesterday how to put in your mouth in order to suck on your big toe? How long were you alone with said poopy foot? Oh no.
2:21:28, while peeling away the utterly useless diaper, gingerly rolling it up and throwing it in the trash. And now we can add “bath” to the list of things to do before I start the laundry. Also: whoever said breastfed babies’ stools smell sweet was on drugs.
2:22 All right, sweetcheecks: Bathtime!
2:22:01 You’re adorable in your pink, naked state, but I only gave you a preliminary wipedown: Please don’t cling to me so tightly.
2:23 At least you like baths, right? You get a kick out of being sprayed with the nozzle! Are you peeing? Yes you are. You are now sitting in your own pee that is quickly gathering in a small pool behind your back, because the chub that is the middle part of your body so completely fills the narrow end of the tub that it creates an impenetrable seal for dirty water, or pee, to escape through.
2:24, after lifting the wriggling, wet baby (now clinging for her life to the sides of the tub, which means struggling for a second to stop her from lifting up the tub, too), dumping out the tub, and starting over. Phew.
2:24:05 Wash your feet…wash your arms….
2:25, washing her back while she plays with the shower head. Wouldn’t it be funny if you just turned that around and sprayed yourself in the face? Because you try to stick everything else in your mouth — why not the shower head? Okay, maybe that wouldn’t be funny.
2:25:03 Yes it would.
2:30 Woohoo! All clean! All dry! All clothed again in nice, clean clothes! And now…it’s laundry time! Into the jumperoo, babbio!
2:31, while giving the poo-smeared mattress sheet a stricken look. Oh yeah.
2:34, while lugging the laundry baskets down the hallway towards the door and scheming whether it’d be okay to leave the baby in her jumperoo while stepping into the laundry room 10 feet away, throwing the clothes in the washing machine and dousing the mattress sheet in stain remover: a two-minute, tops, ordeal. Yes.
2:34:03 Is that poo on my shirt?
2:34:04, on my way back to the room to change. I don’t even want to know.