Wading through poop

Tonight has been interesting to say the least.

John got a flat tire on the way home from work, so I was left to bathe Z-bob (that one is for you N.K.) by myself. Since the hurricane, I have become a pro at doing this, so it was really no big deal. I scooped up my angel and carried her upstairs while pretending to eat her cheeks and savoring the baby laugh. Once upstairs I realized that the lovely stench wafting from my daughter was a disgustingly huge dirty diaper. I plopped her on her changing table and undid her diaper and almost gagged. You would think after six months I would get used to this, but alas, I have not. Anyway, As soon as I had the diaper open, I realized that I had not one wipe upstairs. What is a mommy to do? I looked in every cabinet and drawer in her changer. Nothing. I thought about hightailing it to the poop encrusted butt to the bathroom for some toilet paper, but that brought up another sticky situation I was dealing with. The white shirt. By this time you are thinking, "oh you stupid, stupid girl. What makes you think you can wear white with a six month old?" You are right. Moms with young babies (or children of any age for that matter) should be banned from wearing white. It really is for your own good. Nothing good comes from wearing a white shirt around a baby. I digress. So the hightailing it to the bathroom was clearly out. I am okay with being covered with a lot of Zoey's excretions, but poop ain't one of them. The only thing I could think to do was grab another diaper and wipe as much of the poop off as I could. All while Zoey is trying to roll over. Needless to say, I did not manage to come out poop free, although my white shirt is still (mostly) white. After cleaning her up as well as I could, I picked her up under her armpits and held her as far from me as possible and took her to the bathroom. Imagine the poop scene in 3 Men and a Baby. That was me. I set her on counter, butt hanging over the sink so as not to smear poop on the counter and waited for the water to warm up. Zoey is having a great time through all this. At least someone is. I then sat her in the sink and rinsed her off as best I could. She did not like this part. After removing what I hoped was most of the poop, I sat her on a hand towel lying nex to the sink and constructed a makeshift diaper. While I filled her tub, I prayed that she wouldn't pee on me. She finally made it to the bathtub. Victory! The girl got fed and is now in bed, and that brings us to npw. I am about to put the sheets on my bed because, wait for it, Jack pooped on the bed earlier today. So, if I don't go upstairs to change Zoey's changing pad cover (that now has a big poop smear on it) and pick up the poopy hand towel, it's simply because I truly believe I filled my poop quota for today. But as the ever so lovely Scarlet O'Hara would say, "After all, tomorrow is another day."