Blowouts and Baby News

Diapers and baby poop are so overrated. And I'm not just saying this because I'm the mama and I think baby poop is now cute. No. Even Brandon will admit that (breast fed) baby poop is just not a big deal. What IS a big deal is the amount of blowouts that this little, precious, endearing, daughter of ours has! I'll set the stage for you: I'm sitting on the couch reading her a book. We are laughing together and having a dandy ol' time. Eva's eyelids are slowly closing and I can tell it's almost time for a nap. As the last couple pages arrive and my comical voice moves into "mushy mama" tones, I all of a sudden feel wet. That's right, I feel wet. And I know that if I feel wet, that Eva is even more wet. So, from this point I carry her upstairs (holding her like Uncle Jesse and Joey would do on Full House) and lay her on the changing table. The yellow mustard, also known as breast fed baby poop, is everywhere! Do I undress first? How do I get her onesie off without wiping poop on the back of her head? If I change her, then I'm going to have to lay her back down on a disgusting changing pad? So many questions without answers run through my head!

Scenario #2: It's the kind of day where you are in such a hurry to get anywhere. The dogs take longer than ever to go potty so that I can put them in their room. The diaper bag is empty so I restock before heading out the door. The weather is frigid, so I dare not put the baby in the car carrier (known at our place as the "bucket") before putting her jacket on. And then the sound of a bass tuba penetrates the bottom of the bucket. Sooo, I unbuckle the babe and take her upstairs for another undressing. I've been trying to layer because it's so stinkin' cold in PA, but this just leads to further undressings. GTM, or giggle to myself, this little girl is so loveable, all I can do is laugh. She smiles back. She doesn't even know that her blowouts are causing us to be late wherever we go, but it doesn't even matter. They are excused for me to kiss those large, marshmallowy rolls.

Alas, in baby news, Eva has found her toes! On Tuesday she was once again on the changing table. I turned around for 5 seconds and when I look back, there she was! I screamed for Brandon (he was probably thinking she fell off the table or something) and shared the joyous news. Baby girl has found her toes!