That Came Out of Someone That Small?

Early this morning my husband slipped out of our room to tend to Holden. I woke a couple of hours later to Holden’s wails echoing through the house. I got up to see if daddy and baby were ok and stopped only briefly to examine the sofa slipcover that was waiting in a crumpled lump and accompanied by a spray bottle of Shout stain lifter.

I found dad and Holden in the nursery. Holden was on the changing table screeching and my husband was changing a very …. very poopy diaper. Dad was gnashing his teeth and shot me a sideways glance, a glance I am becoming increasingly familiar with. He recalled the gory events of the morning that included non-stop crying, projectile spit up (that explains the slipcover), and multiple poopy diapers. He also pointed to a pile that consisted of swaddle blankets, the pants and onesie Holden was wearing when we put him to bed, and a half a dozen burp cloths. “Those all have puke on them,” he said.

I don’t know who I felt sorrier for. One of my boys was crying incessantly and the other was on the verge.

Everyone recovered and we have gone on to have a great day. The fate of the slipcover is still undecided.

The photo is of my two angels napping, yesterday.

-Carmen