This post rated D for Disgusting

I've learned from other bloggers who are parents that there comes a time when you can't help but write about something just nasty about child-herding. I also understand all the better why everyone's favorite blogger Dooce frequently references tequila as an important item in her parenting toolbox.

August just caught a cold. She had a hard time sleeping last night because of a disgusting runny nose, and required Ray and I to take turns rocking her back to sleep every hour or two. By 2:30 am, we gave up and had her come sleep with us. As soon as she hit our bed, her juicy tears of discomfort turned into what sounded like an enthusiastic narration of a cooking show, apparently in Portuguese. This continued for 20 minutes before we all fell into a fitful sleep.

This morning, she was understandably tired and irritable, fighting the Evil Tissue of Doom every time it came close to her nose. But it wasn't until noonish that things got bad. She had a dirty diaper and when I unwrapped her diap to get things cleaned up, I realized that the poop was primarily outside of her diaper, up her back, in her clothes, etc. Somehow the poop ended up all over the changing table, on previously clean clothes, and in her hair (why, oh why didn't we get a bald baby). I juggled the clothes, wipes and beast the best I could to minimize the seemingly viral spread of poo. Just as things were under control, I picked August up in my arms and she peed on me.

Not having a chance to change or deal with the puddle or poopy pile in the baby room, I ran her into the kitchen with the baby tub. Bathing was thankfully uneventful except for the spilling dirt from the potted plant August grabbed on the window sill (clearly my fault for putting it within reach). Hey, people pay large sums for a mud bath.

Once out of the bath, we both got dressed while August continued to fuss. Maybe she's hungry, I thought. I prepped her rice/oatmeal cereal and avocado/sweet potato mush. She took a few bites like she usually does, then decided it was a better use of her time to spit the following bites at me. Not just raspberry with food in her mouth, but forcefully spray cereal across the tray and onto my clothes and hair. Oh well.

Naptime never looked so good. Same for tequila.