Another Post About Poop

I'm dragging.... 5am wake up call this morning.   Now, typically, when GHC starts barking into the monitor that early, she's pretty easily coaxed back to sleep.   So, this morning, I head up to her room to untangle her blanket, get her bear, or fix whatever is preventing her from sleeping.  As soon as I enter her pitch black room, I smell something horrid.

OK - no big deal.  Kid shit herself and needs a diaper change.  This happens.

As I move closer to the crib, I notice the stench is particularly bad.  As I reach down to grab GHC in , she tells me, "It's over there," and points to the middle of her bed.  And even in the shadows of the dark room, I see it.  A massive steaming pile of shit (that on any other occassion would make her father proud).    [While I am known for hyperbole, I kid you not when I tell you that it was so big it actually clogged the toilet.]

I immediately scramble around to turn on lights and figure out how the eff my kid managed to drop a monster deuce in the middle of her bed.  And as the first light flickers on, I see it - my precious, beautiful baby girl is pants-less, diaper-less, and covered in shit.

Other items covered in shit - thanks to what can only be called a bad decision on her part to try to go back to sleep with said steaming pile of shit in her bed:

• bear
• yellow lovie #1
• yellow lovie #2
• owl lovie
• pajamas
• 3 my little ponies

Naturally, at 5am, there is no way in hell I'm going to (a) do laundry, (b) change sheets or (c) bathe my child.  So, I give the kid a solid wipe-down with baby wipes, throw on some new pajamas, and bring her down to my bed to go back to sleep.

Of course, seeing as how I've fed GHC's crazy neuroses to sleep with a million lovies, she wails about not being able to sleep without them.  As I try to coax her (actually, cry and beg) to go back to sleep, she notices a package of goldfish on the nightstand.  She asks me for them, to which me being the totally in-control parent that I am, I reply no.  At which point, she wails again, to which me being desperate for sleep, say OK fine.

So, there we are in the dark... 5:30 am... I'm trying to go back to sleep... and all I hear is a very slow deliberate crunch... crunch... crunch.... as she carefully eats one goldfish at a time.  Not shockingly, she eats every single one over a painful 30-minute period.  And at about 6:00 am, she finally falls alseep.  Snoring like a trucker.  Awesome.

[for those of you wondering where THC is during all of this, in his defense, he had to work the night shift at work, so I let him sleep in the guest room when we came downstairs.  of course, that did not stop me from completely lashing out at him for being an absentee father anyway.  mixed messages are the key to any successful marriage, right?]