Friday, December 4, 2009

What Happened Wednesday Morning

After Olivia left on the bus, I helped Annabel finish her breakfast, washed off her booster tray, and swept her up the stairs to have her bath.  I removed her pajamas quickly, just by holding her in my right hand over the hamper and stripping her with my left, almost in autopilot.  We went to the bathroom.  I perched on the edge of the tub with Bella perched on the edge of my lap.  Once the bathwater was flowing at the perfect temperature, I stopped my flurry of activity long enough to acknowledge some sensory information that my nose had been trying to get through to my brain.  There was an awful stench.  I looked down to see poop--make that POOP--cascading out of Bella's diaper, onto my lap, up my arm, on my shirt, and dripping on the floor.  (Make no mistake.  I had already changed her once this morning, as soon as she got out of bed.)  I yelled for Naomi's help, gasping for some wipes.  Mimi came running in and ran out again as fast as possible.  She whimpered something about it being "too gwoss", but I just told her to please get me the wipes.
Then I heard some retching and poor Mimi peeked around the corner, green-faced, to tell me she had puked all over the stairs.  (She has been known to toss her cookies after looking at her own poop in the toilet.  I should have known she was unreliable in this situation.)  I decided I was on my own.  I stripped Bella the rest of the way down, making a brave but futile effort to clean up the eruption with the wipes I retrieved from my bedroom.  I decided a shower was the only way to handle the situation.  I tried to hold her in the spray without getting myself wet, but ended up in the shower as well, scrubbing us both completely down with some serious antibacterial soap.
I got Bella out of my shower and soaking in her tub (why waste that perfect bathwater?) before I turned my attention to the stairs.  Yuck.  I hate cleaning up vomit.
Being a mom is such a dirty job.  I think I'm going to talk to my business partner about me getting a raise.

8 comments:

Kent and Leisy said...

that is absolutely disgusting, emilee. great great story, though.

adventure knitter said...

if you get your raise, let me know how!! i'm fighting for sick days...

Janelle said...

Hey Emilee! It's Janelle from "The Porter House". :) It's been a long time! I found your blog, read this entry, and just laughed because I just had a similar poopy bath experience with my two year old! I definitely think a raise...or even a end-of-the-year-bonus is called for!:) Happy Holidays! Janelle :)

dockters said...

So relieved this post did not include pictures!!

Can I get your email address, Emilee? Wondering if you have any contacts down in Indianapolis that could give me a babysitting referral....I'll email you details! Thank you!!!!

Sara said...

I'd like to barf now. But I won't make you clean it up.

Mike and Kelly said...

But what a great story.... I love that Mimi gets sick when she sees poop. So stinking funny.

Cynthia said...

LOL. That could have been an episode on dirty jobs!

brittani c. said...

I'm thinking either you invent great imaginative stories or that little girl has some fabulous regularity. I doubt she'll ever need Activia yogurt in her life. I'm a lot like Mimi: too sensitive for gwoss things like that.