Speaking of Poop....

(This one is for you, Ashley.)

Let me begin by confessing that my three-month old daughter sleeps in the bed with me. Connor slept with me for almost fifteen months; even now he likes to crawl in the bed with me most mornings. When I was pregnant with Laila I vowed to do it different this time around. We went through the motion of setting up a nursery, complete with a crib, a crib bumper, matching curtains, a cute pink changing table--the whole nine yards. Lee said it was a waste of time and money. I promised it wouldn't be.

My plan was to put Laila to sleep in the crib each night, and then bring her into our room during her first feeding, and after that put her in the co-sleeper / bassinet thingy that is attached to our bed. But she was so tiny and the crib was so big.... So I decided, at least in the beginning, that I'd have her sleep in the bassinet. We'd introduce the crib later. Baby steps.

The first night she slept in her bassinet for about three hours. When she woke up crying I put her in the bed with me and began nursing her (one of the best parts of breastfeeding is the ease of the midnight feedings). I patiently stayed awake, and then gently placed her back in the bassinet when I was finished. See, I thought, I can do this! Two hours later she woke up crying again. I repeated the process, so proud of myself for following through with my plan. When she woke up again, two hours later, I was exhausted. Just this once, I thought, as I laid her next to me and dozed off.

Needless to say, she sleeps with me now. We don't even waste our time with the bassinet anymore. And as if I'm not being lazy enough, I've even started changing her diaper in the bed with me. The bassinet now houses my changing supplies: extra diapers and wipes. If she wets her clothes in the middle of the night, she just has to sleep naked. Poor kid.

So it was bound to happen at some point. One night last week I woke up around 4:30 for her usual night-time feeding / diaper change. I gingerly undid her pajamas, removed her diaper, and reached over for a clean diaper. And suddenly--you guessed it--poop went spraying everywhere. I took a deep breath and resigned myself to the fact that I was going to have to get out of bed to clean this up. I grabbed some wipes and lifted her tiny legs to clean her little butt. When I did, poop went spraying everywhere. Again. And again. And again. All over the comforter. All over the sheets. All over me. It was in my hair, on my neck, and all over my shirt. In the 5000+ times I've changed diapers, I have never seen anything like this. I didn't know it could spray out of them with such force. It kind of reminded me of the way water comes gushing out of a fire fighter's hose. With a strong powerful force behind it.

Needless to say I was in the shower at 5:00 that morning. I was not happy. And since I had to wash the sheets, there was no going back to bed.

Speaking of poop, I hear the little monster puttering now....