This morning had a scene that could've been pulled from slapstick comedy. Baby girl had had quite the diaper dilemma. As my title reveals, her rear end turned into a volcano that erupted to the point of diaper failure. As the smell reached me, I grabbed a new diaper and wipes thinking I'd do a quick change. But she had a huge surprise awaiting me. I pulled her single-handedly from the walker she so happily was enjoying and did a Mom maneuver that would put me Indian-style on the floor with her on my leg and diaper and wipes on the floor next to us. It was at this point that I realized she felt a little wet. I thought she had spit up her bottle again and that it had gotten on her leg. But as I looked down, while shifting her to the prone position on the new rug in front of me, I noticed the color of digested greens all over her feet. My eyes took in the full spectrum of the mess. It was on her feet, legs, her clothes, my pants, my foot, the walker, and a lovely, large pile on the floor. Now we just bought this rug using funds gifted to us by his sister for our wedding present. And of all places to leak, she did so on the white part of the red, gray and white patterned rug.
moment on, was a comedic series of events. My husband was dumbfounded as
he came to see why I was suddenly calling out the baby's name in
surprise. He told me to tell him what to do because he was at a loss. At
this point is when my brain kicked in again and I was able to formulate
a strategy to battle the mess. I told him to grab a bag. I immobilized
the baby and starting cleaning her up a bit. I had him scooping up what
he could and dumping it into the bag. Then came the time to spray and
scrub the floor. I told him a bath was required for this level of dirtiness.
To spray the spot heavily and I would get to it when I finished cleaning
the baby up. Especially since he had just gotten home from working over night and needed to eat before heading to bed.
He of course took it on by himself though. I got in the tub and commenced scrubbing feces from myself and the little lady. I called for his assistance and he told me the rug might need to be thrown out.
"Is it not coming out with the cleaner?", I queried.
"I don't have high hopes." Not the answer I was hoping to hear. I paid good money for our rug. I liked that rug. I wasn't willing to scrap it at the first accident. Then I start questioning him about how bad it really was and came to find that it wasn't entirely the fact there was a slight stain left. It was because of what had caused the stain that left him feeling uneasy about the continued use of the rug.
So typical of a new dad! Or of a man in general. The thought that crap was on the rug, bothered him more than the fact that there was a slight stain. The latter bugs me, because I'm OCD about stuff like that. Its at this point, though, that I start laughing. And I inform him that I'm not throwing it away just like that. I will do what I can to get rid of the stain and that he will have to get used to bodily fluids that can leave stains. After all. We have a 7 month old baby. She will make messes. And he will come to find that unless he has an endless supply of money flowing, you have to get over it.
After finally getting her cleaned up, we checked the rug. Yes, there is a slightly darker shade on part of the rug.
Its clean though! After all that, she ended up throwing up on the rug repeatedly throughout the day. It won't remain pristine. Nothing does when you have kids. Why else do I tell him often, "This is why parents can't have nice things!" But its worth the hassle. We do what we do for our babies. No matter the mess. No matter the frustration. No matter the smells, sights, and exhaustion that accompany them. We do all from unconditional love.
Now that I have shared, I'm curious. How many of you have such stories or experiences you have gone through?