Learning Curve

I like to think I have a brain cell or two floating around in my head. But Avery has proven that this may not be the case as she puts me through my first semester of Parenting School. My test this week in my Bodily Fluids 101 class is entitled "Be Prepared, Fool." And I failed miserably.

So for the first month of Avery's life, there was little to no spit up. She'd give a good burp after eating, but she'd happily keep all of her food down. But then to keep us on our toes, she decided to start spitting up. Of course, it's taken me awhile to adjust to this new phenomenon, so remembering to have a burp cloth on hand has proven difficult for my pea-sized brain. Alan has grown used to my urgent calls to "Get me something!" to clean up the mess. The other night when she spit up while I was holding her, he preemptively jumped up to come to my rescue.

I told him not to bother because she'd spit up straight down my shirt.

So we headed upstairs to clean up. She needed a bath anyway and I now needed a shower. So I take her diaper off and gamble on getting to the bathroom with her butt bare.

Remind me not to go to Las Vegas.

We get to the bathroom and it must have been the running water, because the little girl could hold it no longer. She had to go...and peed right on my hip and down my leg. What's another pair of jeans in the wash at this point?

So to make her trifecta complete, we wake up after a snuggle the next morning to her having blown through her pajamas and her blanket to get poop on our sheets. Add sheets and our mattress cover to the wash.

Little did I know that she was preparing me for the coup de grace, what I shall call Poop-o-Mania 2010.

We're in the glider, she's chowing down. I don't know if I heard it first, felt it or just had a weird sense, but all of a sudden I knew there was poop everywhere. I knocked Marti off my lap, stood up and well, Poop-o-Mania 2010 had commenced. There was poop on my shirt. Poop on my jeans. Poop through to my underwear. Poop on the glider cushions. Poop on the carpet.

The most impressive part? It's like she had direct aim. How it made it through her clothes (she was fully clothed at the time, long pants and everything) through the cushions and out the back of the glider and still had this sort of distance...well, that's talent.


I've also yet to learn that during diaper changes the girl will pee almost every time she feels the open air. I'm keeping Pampers in business wasting diapers. Also Dreft, washing clothes and changing table covers.

Don't let her innocent, sleeping face fool you. She's about to poop on me.*


*As I edit this I just got my first real smile. I will deal with mountains of poop for that.

Note: The moment I hit "Publish" she spit up on my sleeve. She's already cultivating a comedic sense of timing.