This morn­ing at approx­i­mately 6:00 a.m. Evan woke up cry­ing. Well…prior to the cry­ing was the cough­ing. I heard him start cough­ing as I, being a Mom no longer have the abil­ity to fall into a deep dead-to-the-world sleep. The cry­ing began and a few moments later.

When I real­ized he wouldn’t be able to soothe him­self back to sleep, I made my way into his bed­room to find one of about ten paci­fiers that lay around in his crib in order to try and soothe him back to sleep. Although his room was still dark I noticed imme­di­ately that he was sit­ting up-this is not com­pletely out of the ordi­nary but it made my mom-sense perk up, and instead of pay­ing atten­tion to it I placed my hand in his crib with the inten­tion of feel­ing around for the ever illu­sive tete (paci­fier). Instead of find­ing his paci­fier I found my hand in a wet, cold, icky gunk that I can only describe as some­thing you’d put your hand into for a prank at a Hal­loween party-but scarier because this was real.

I knew imme­di­ately of course that he’d vom­ited. It some­times hap­pens with lit­tle kids when cough­ing and boogery noses are involved.
I began the clean up process and ten min­utes later had his bed linens wash­ing and he and I snug­gled up in my bed watch­ing infomer­cials.
We were doing good. He didn’t want his bot­tle but he was snug­gling up to me and I thought we both would go back to sleep.

I thought wrong.

A few moments later the puk­ing began again. A short while later his dia­per crashed the party and we’ve been livin’ it up ever since!

It’s Noon now, and I just laid him down for his after­noon nap. We’ve had a whole hour since a poopey dia­per and about two hours since he vom­ited! Poor lit­tle guy. He began drink­ing around 9 a.m, which I was pleased with, I am hop­ing that when he wakes he’ll eat something-as he has refused all food-even entic­ing things like choco­late cov­ered pretzels-one of his favorite treats.

After a few com­plete cloth­ing changes (I’d been keep­ing him in a zip­pered, footie paja­mas.) It dawned on me that I have mul­ti­ple pairs of BabyLegs sit­ting in his sock drawer, patiently wait­ing for me in his to remem­ber them and their handy use­ful­ness when it comes to diapering.

I really should own stock in baby leg­warm­ers and they cer­tainly made the job of chang­ing dia­per after diar­rhea laden dia­per eas­ier. My wash­ing machine was much hap­pier, but my ottoman-not-so-much-as I’ve yet to fig­ure out a way to keep a liq­uidy poopy dia­per from leaking.

What I’m going to do with my ottoman is yet to be decided. If it were up to my hus­band it would be at the dump first thing tomor­row morning.

Evan seemed hap­pier as I laid him down for his nap.I’m hop­ing he doesn’t wake up to a repeat of this morning.

That’s one thing I love about chil­dren, they never let a shitty day get them down.

I’m off to clean and san­i­tize every sur­face of my home. What I really want to do is take a nap and not worry about that be-shitted ottoman.

Oh boy.

Wish me luck.

*I wasn’t paid to tell you about BabyLegs, I’m just a mom, who wanted to share a prod­uct that really did make life a lit­tle easier-on an oth­er­wise un-fun day.

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