The Historic Poop

Happened at about 3:30 a.m., or maybe it was 6:30 a.m., they all run together. I had given her a bottle and she was heading for sleep, but first I wanted to change the diaper, which smelled wet. I took her downstairs and laid her on the mini-changing table attachment atop the all-purpose Graco baassinnettee (I doubled everything because I wasn't sure).

I got her old diaper off, and I wiped her, and then without warning she had a bowel movement. Which is a euphemism to be sure; the reality is like someone put yams in a Gatling gun. The changing section is a little shallow plastic basin, which was lucky because the raised rim caught the impact. The brunt of it. Otherwise it would have been on the window.

So I'm laughing hysterically and trying to get both her and the plastic changing table surface clean at the same time, when there's only two hands on me and no place to put her down. Wipes are useless in this case; I need reinforcements. I slip out to the kitchen to get paper towels, and when I get back, she's done it again.

Finally, I get her de-poopulated, but before I can get a fresh diaper on ... you guessed it.