For the past three days, each morning I awake, serve a light starchy breakfast, pour myself a cup of coffee and wait until my oldest, "The Poo Detective" alerts me of baby Ana's latest explosion. And for the past three mornings, the explosion has happened on one of our Pottery Barn Kids' Chairs. This is what it looks like before 7 am:Ironically, this chair is called "The Anywhere Chair". And in our case, anywhere we put it, Ana finds it and explodes on it. Then, it no longer resembles itself anymore, anywhere.
So, I gulp down my coffee, roll up my sleeves and drag it outside to scrape, spray and disassemble it for washing. Its foamy white skeleton strewn around the yard while the Removable Upholstery is washed and cleaned. Every night, I put the darned thing back together again so it's ready for the next morning explosion.
The first day, we discovered that diapers aren't equipped for receiving copious amounts of fluid when introduced all at once, resulting in aforementioned explosion. The next day the milk in Ana's bottle went into her stomach as regular, fresh 2% milk, and in moments emerged again as giant curds with an accompanying white paste. Today, we were literally "back" on "the back end" explosions. At least I can say my life is not mundane.
This morning I carried her messy little back end in mid-air, so as not to touch me or anything else, directly to the bath tub and ran the water. Once she was cleaned up and settled in a shallow pool of soapiness, I dragged the chair outside for it's daily treatment (leaving Shelby in the bathroom to act as lifeguard).
When I returned, the "Poo Detective" quietly pointed to the bath while holding her nose. There was Ana, happily splashing away in a bubbly brown, chunky bath. If I ever catch this flu bug, I swear to you, he will pay!