Special Edition - Code Brown is for the Weak

Well, this extra blog is brought to you by Baby Oxy Clean.

Well, I already blogged once today, but I found it necessary to share a bit of our evening, it kind of made me giggle, kind of made me puke and if you read the earlier blog in which I was discussing SIGNS, well, I got a great SIGN tonight, when Greta yet again blew her diaper, the SIGN that immediately popped in to my head was an ad for a Nanny!

The scene - Greta has been "off" all day, our little gal who rarely cries seemed to be distressed, she barely slept all day and has been eating like a horse. We received an unexpected call from our friends Newf and Kim that they were coming for supper (they were bringing it with them), so we gathered a few things to add to the dinner, and Darren started to feed Greta. Still she was off, despite the food, we soon found out why...BOOM...no it wasn't a bomb dropping in the neighbourhood, it was an 8lb little gal exploding a days worth of shit in to her diaper. Now, I had just changed her, secured that diaper extra, extra tight, so tight I was confident that the cute white and polka dot dress romper she was wearing was a smart decision. Well, we only heard one explosion, most days there are a few, so what do I suggest - "Darren, just wait to change her, she probably isn't finished" Well, a few minutes pass, and nothing, so Darren goes to move her and off to change her... talk about someone stopping dead in their tracks. Not only did she blow through the pampers, on to her sweet little outfit, but she left a lovely present on Darren's lap (the kind of present that had a distinct odour and color - lets call it shit, oh my word, we both almost puked, Darren had to be changed, Greta had to be changed, this is much worse than code brown, this was Code Yellow, mixed with Green...Lord help us, it's only been 5 weeks, I can't handle the replacement cost of Darren and Greta's clothes! Anyway, Darren was gagging too much, and I guess he was covered in shit, so I had to change Greta - lets just say it was a 15 wipe kind of experience!

So, sweet dreams, or at least the Sweet Smell of Baby Shit. I guess being a parent means being able to embrace the shit. Love the shit. Become one with the shit because it will end up all over us eventually.