I've had a CRAPPY day. (no...make that week)

Squeamish friends, beware.

Don't go further.

Really.

There will be a lot of poop talk.

Even pictures.

Don't say I didn't warn you.




Grace used to be on a schedule.

1. Wake up.
2. Eat
3. poop...
4. Sleep
5. Repeat

Such was her life.  Then, around 4 months, she decided to change that schedule to this:

1. Wake up
2. Eat
3. Sleep
4. Repeat....for about a SEVEN days....and then,
5. POOP!

Well, this past week she's changed her schedule once again.

1. Wake up.
2. POOPtastrophe
3. Bath
4. Eat.
5. hopefully sleep
6. Repeat.

EVERY morning this past week, Grace has had a Pooptastrophe. Yes, you heard that right. POOPTASTROPHE. Poop is one thing. But, poop up the onesie, poop puddles, poop on the boppy, poop on the sheets, poop through the swaddle, poop on the carseat...now, THAT's another level of catastrophe.

Well, today was just the icing on the cake (eww...gross analogy when talking about poop).
Last night was a bad one. Like the first night home from the hospital bad. Grace wanted to be awake ALL night. (which, for your information, Grace Nicole, is NOT my idea of fun!)
Then, there was the crying, the fighting her down for her nap, which lasted all of 5 minutes (just long enough for me to crawl into bed and pull the covers up to my chin...and hear the loud wail from the baby monitor)...and the errands where my child caused a scene screeching through Walmart. Oh, and did I mention that I forgot the one really 'time-sensitive' item that I needed? Yeah, I hate it when that happens.

Then we got home.  I put Grace in the Exersaucer, sat down, and enjoyed my Chic-fil-A Salad. Grace just played happily and would occasionally strain her head around to smile at me.

Sweet peace.

Then a toot. A juicy toot. You mom's know what i'm talking about. That one adjective is the difference between a new diaper, and a POOPtastrophe.
I jump out of my chair and run to Grace.

TOO LATE.

POOPTASTROPHE!! Poop up the back, and puddled in the exersaucer. Its these situations where you have to plan how to attack.  Since Grace is now rolling over like a pro...I knew that I needed to get the bath ready before I even took her out of the exersaucer. I even changed my clothes, knowing that anything was possible, and even likely the way my day had been. I put towels down on the bathroom floor, and then placed her changing pad on top. Then, I go to face my crappy fate. I pull Grace out, and run to the bathroom, hoping that the poop does not drip on my carpet.

I take her out of her clothes as fast as I can...but it's not fast enough. The poop spreads: the towel, her hands, her face, her hair.

Then, comes the bathS. One to rinse the initial poop off of her. Then a Second to actually CLEAN her.

Ugh.

Now I'm soaking her clothes in the guest bathroom sink. I really don't think there's any hope for them.  I've also treated the exersaucer and it's waiting to be put in the laundry as well.

What did I do after all of this?

Call Stephen and tell HIM to pick up dinner. There's no way I'm tackling that today.

do I dare even look?

ugh...I shouldn't have looked.

damage control to stop the rivers of poop while I bathed Grace.



The culprit. Good thing she's so cute. I guess I'll forgive her.

 And yes, I took pictures. Why? Because, one day, when I'm having a bad day, I want to look back and realize that it was no where near as CRAPPY as today.