So a lot has been said on here about The Boy. From his taste in music to his robust personality traits, in just a week and a half I have covered many aspects of his little life, but I haven’t said much about my girl.
Well, today she made rather an impact on my life so it leaves me with very little choice other than to do this blog post about her. She’s very small still, not even three months old yet, so she doesn’t do much other than utilise her digestive system, gurgle a bit and sleep. Oh – and she has dimples. Truly gorgeous dimples which she uses to great effect, especially when charming her daddy.
Anyway, to get back to her digestive system… She got the day off to a flying start by vomiting copiously over me, herself, the sofa and her big brother about 5 minutes before we needed to leave for preschool. Putting aside the logistical difficulties of getting all three of us cleaned up in five minutes, I also had The Boy’s hysterics to deal with “Ugh I got her sick on me Mummy! Wipe it off! Ugh! Yuck. Sick!” etc. Bloody drama llama.
As if spectacular digestive pyrotechnics weren’t enough for one day she decided to conjure an impressive poo-tastrophe whilst we were out and about post-preschool, enjoying the outdoor pleasures our little town affords us. Naturally I had just changed her nappy, thus using up the only clean one I had with us and, also naturally, the one I’d changed her into was the spare ’emergency’ nappy I keep in my bag which doesn’t fit as well as the others (for the record I should point out we use cloth nappies) so as she was lying on her side feeding the epic poonami flowed freely out of the nappy, all over her clothes and all over the blanket she was lying on, spread even further by her distressed kicking about in it.
Bleurgh. Now both kids are in bed I have finally had a chance to deal with the sicky, pooey fallout and the washing machine is running full blast. I’m kind of glad we use cloth nappies, poo incidents like this hold far less fear when you deal with washing poo out of fabric every day. It’s more stressful when out of control, however.
Sorry if today’s post wasn’t funny or particularly interesting. I’m rather tired and funny is harder when you’re still picking poo out of your fingernails.