pee-yew

Last night, Bridget didn't sleep very well. She was fussing a bit every couple hours or so, but not enough for me to get her up. Just enough for me to check on her. Maybe she's cold, I'd think. I do have her ceiling fan on and she's just in her onesie instead of her footie pajamas. But she does have that warm fuzzy blanket...

Nope. Not the reason. When I got her out of bed eleven-some hours after putting her down (she slept soundly the last two-three hours, probably tired from a night of fussing), I discovered the real reason for her fussiness. She had pooped, probably early in the night, and it had leaked all over. And even though she's still just eating breastmilk, it stank like never before. So much that I almost vomited from the smell--and that's a lot, seeing as how I got used to smells and human excrement when I was taking care of my mother.

Since it was all over, I debated how to pull the onesie over Bridget's head without getting poop all over her face, in her mouth, and mashed into her hair. Al was already running the bathwater for me, but still--you hate to have your daughter eat her own poop. Well, I came up with the perfect solution: get the sharp sewing scissors out and cut the thing off of her (of course, I used great care and aimed the blades away from her face in case she squirmed). I can use it for her Kid's Kwilt when I'm ready to make it (the part that isn't permanently stained). Then into the bathtub she went, and into the laundry with a strong dose of Oxi-Clean goes the sheet. Ah, the joys of being mommy.