I planned to make a little treat and card to give to all of my volleyball friends here in Tooele before we move. I made them all up last night. They turned out cute. I cut out volleyballs and put them on black paper to make them kinda look like little Oreos. Then on the back I wrote "This is for all the Oreos" (an inside joke with everyone at volleyball) and gave my information to everyone so we could keep in touch after the move. I was nervous for some reason to go to volleyball to say goodbye to everyone and give them this little parting gift.
Anyway, I got showered and ready, I got the kids ready and I put Alyssa down for her nap. I wanted to look extra cute, because let's face it, these girls see me all the time at my absolute worst. No makeup, old clothes and sweating profusely. So I take a lot of extra time picking out my outfit and I put on the only jeans that fit at the moment (I've gained like ten pounds in the last month with the stress of moving). I'm feeling like I'm looking pretty good and we are all set to go. I get Jake and Lily to put on their shoes, and I walk into the baby's room to wake her.
She is standing up when I open the door and I look at her and say "Honey, why didn't you take a nap?" I pick her up, put her on my hip and then lift her onto the changing table to put on her little shoes, when I notice she has poop, very runny poop I might add, on her left thigh. I sigh and and say "Oh no baby! Seriously?" I start wiping her down and notice she also has it on her foot and is trying to get her hands into her diaper. It is times like these when I wish I had four extra hands so I can hold her down and wipe her at the same time. Either that or trade places with someone NOT currently changing a nasty diaper. I finish wiping her down and finally get into the actual diaper changing.
This is some serious liquid poop, let me tell you, I had to hold the diaper at an angle to keep it from sloshing out. After what seems like forever, I get her all cleaned up and in fresh clothes. I check out the crib and everything looks Poop free there. But I see a big "drop" of poop on the carpet."Huh," I think to myself, "That can't be right, how could she have poop all over but NOT in the crib?" Then it dawned on me that the poop must not have come out of the diaper till I picked her up! I swear on everything I own that this next part of the story took place in complete slow motion. I glance down at my body slowly. My jaw drops to the floor, as I see a waterfall stain of poop all down my shirt that cascaded down most of my left pant leg. I stared in horror. I slowly look back at Alyssa and then back down at my clothes. Back up again at Alyssa, I say "REALLY? Did you really just do this?" Frustrated to no end, I wipe my clothes with baby wipes. I take off my shirt and throw it into the hamper. I wipe my jeans (the only pair that fits I might add again) and think maybe if I wipe it enough, I can still wear them? I shake my head at the ridiculousness of the notion and take them off. OK, so I'm starting over with the whole cute outfit to wear to say goodbye to my volleyball friends.
I have one more pair of jeans with a rip in the crotch that I look at and consider. Looking through my drawers I realized I had already packed all my other jeans besides these two pair because the others don't really fit anyway.
I suck it up, and in, and I put on my crotch ripped pants as well as fresh shirt to wear. I'm not feeling so cute in my muffin top jeans and second choice shirt, but what options do I have? I was finally ready to leave the house. I think if I had seen this happen to someone else, it would have been absolutely hilarious to me! I would be bent over in side splitting laughter especially at the part where "she looked down in horror to find the poop all down herself!" Ahhahahahaha!
Too bad it happened to me. The life of a mommy I tell you!
-The treat went over well at volleyball. It was sad to say goodbye to all my friends. I sure wish I hadn't hurt my foot the month before we leave! I would have liked to play right up until the day we moved.