Oh.My.Word. This morning started off with pure craziness. Charlotte slept late, and I hold tightly to the old adage of “never wake a sleeping baby”, because that means that mama gets to sleep in too! So when she finally did wake up, I heard her fussing. I got up, went to the potty, mixed up her bottle in the kitchen, then went to get her out of her crib. And when I opened the door. Oh.My.Word.
She was holding her blanket up in front of her like she was terrified, and she was screaming at the top of her lungs. I glanced around the room to see what she was so afraid of, but seeing nothing, I pulled the blanket down and then I saw it. She was wet up to her neck. Her onesie was completely soaked, even the long sleeves. The blanket was soaked, Duckie was soaked, and when I picked her up, I saw the puddle that she was sitting in. Her socks were dripping, and the puddle had probably started to drip onto the floor. I put her over onto the changing table, and looked around for a pair of scissors. I was going to cut off the onesie, all ER style, so I didn’t have to drag pee all over her face. Finding no scissors, I unsnapped the onesie, and then I saw the REAL mess. The diaper had literally exploded from the top. That gel filling was oozing out all over her stomach and it looked like the front of the diaper might burst open too. I froze for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. And in that moment, she reached down and touched her stomach and before I knew what was happeneing, had some of that gel nastiness in her mouth. Remember, she’s still screaming at the top of her lungs. So I scrape out her mouth, with her still screaming, and then I grab the (soaked) blanket from her bed, wrap it around her, and proceed to take her to the bath tub. As I’m walking across her room, that gel filling dropped out onto the carpet. Oh.My.Word.
So I get her into the bathroom, set her down nastiness and all, turn on the water, which takes 8 years to get warm on that side of the house. I get the temperature right, somehow get her undressed and standing in the tub, hose her off, while she’s screaming, crying, and sliding everywhere. I get her hosed down, towelled off, and I take her back into her room. I lay her on the floor, put a clean diaper on her and take her into the living room. I lay her down propped up with the Boppy, and give her the bottle. Then I go into her room, scoop up the gel on the floor, pull all dripping soaked and nasty clothes and bedding into a pile, drop it in the washing machine, then I throw away the onesie and the diaper + contents.
She was fine and dandy after her morning bottle, apparently I’m the only one that remembers this awful experience. … But now she has a lovely rash on her tummy. Sigh. Remind me again why I want to have another baby?