A couple of days ago, Iain and I had both reached the point of exhaustion at roughly the same time, which is not a good thing, and Nathaniel had reached his point of extreme irritability. Things were a bit tense. I was tired and decided to change the baby on the bed, not thinking to put something under his butt. As I took off his diaper, he decided to let loose a fine spray of shit that covered the corner of our bed. Just what we felt like doing, changing the sheets.
So, I went and layed down on the spare bed to feed him while Iain took care of the mess. Don't ask me why I did this, mental strain or left over morphine from the operation, but I decided to change him on this bed without a change pad underneath him-I guess I was thinking, what were the chances of it happening again. Apparently the odds were not in my favour. Once again, he greets me with a blast from his bowels, only this time it soaks all into the mattress. Yes, I was a bit scared to tell Iain. Yes, he was slightly furious.
Iain cleaned the bed and then had to dry it and make this bed up because my Mom was coming to spend the night (my Dad is in the hospital in Oromocto) and I decided that perhaps it was best for me to take the baby and hide quietly somewhere in the house until Hurricane Iain blew over.
Iain took the time to point out to me that there is a change table both upstairs and downstairs and that it would be beneficial for the mental (and probably physical health of me) health of both of us to actually use them.
I couldn't agree more.
1 comment:
LOVE IT!! Ha ha!!
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