Drinking the Whole Bottle: Holy Crap.

So today, our little mima woke up earlier than usual and decided that sleep was not for her. Eating was but not sleeping. She was a bit cranky throughout most of the day and neither I nor the nanny could truly figure out why. She was fed. She was changed. She was clean. The only thing I could dome up with was that she was tired. But every time I would rock her to sleep and try to place her in her crib, she would wake up and let me know that this was UNACCEPTABLE. After two or three goes at it (and the nanny's 2-3 goes also), I decided that the next time she would face the swing and see if she could hold out on that weapon in our artillery.

Of course a next time came. I picked her up and rocked her a little to make her sleepy and then I put her in the swing and sat with her. In the time that we've had this swing it has only worked one other time, but I was desperate to try anything today. She wiggled around at first, looking like she would cry at any moment, but then I put the swing in almost full, well, swing and she succumbed to the power of the rocking. She was finally asleep. And I could finally relax for a moment.

An hour or so later, I heard her tribal cry saying she wanted out. I picked her up out of the swing and she went from zero to full cry faster than a Ferrari in Monte Carlo. She was definitely hungry, right? That's a hunger cry, no? I went straight to the kitchen to warm up a bottle. Hmm... how many ounces? Two? Three? Let's do three. Wait? What is that? Why do I feel warm? And wet? I know these indicators. This feels just like when she - DAMN IT! She peed on me. I moved her from my white shirt and noticed that her pee looked more yellow than usual. DAMN IT! She didn't pee on me. She pooped on me!

I took her to her changing table and what I found there was nothing short of an eruption. People easily grossed out should stop story here. There was poop EVERYWHERE. There was so much poop that the diaper could not hold it and some managed to squeeze out of the side and smearing onto my shirt. Sneaky poop. She had a poop diaper. Not poop in her diaper, but so much poop covering her bottom that it could have been a diaper. It was past her butt up her back, covering her hoo-ha, up to her belly button. WTF? (Mom, this is computer language for What The F*ck - sorry, but this was a WTF moment.)

These are the moments, before you're a mom, that you hear about that make you think that there is no way on God's Earth that you can do this motherhood thing. But as I was cleaning her, she went from full speed cry to something else. Was that a smile? This little pooperati was sort of smiling. She thought this was funny. And while I still had a smear of smelly, yellow poop on my shirt, all I could do was laugh.

And then quickly take off my shirt to be washed. Gross.

This wasn't her exact face, but close!