A night for the books...

In a Facebook-filled, Pinterest-driven, look at me and my perfect life kind of world, I want to be better at being transparent. Because isn't that half the battle? Aren't the hard days just slightly more bearable when you know you're not the only one struggling to get yourself out the door with shoes that match?

So here I am, telling you about another one of the rough days.  Most days are amazing.  This one was not. To start, Grace came down with some sort of stomach bug on Saturday evening.  She woke up in the middle of the night with a dirty diaper (which never happens), so I braced myself for a few not-so-pleasant days.  But then Micah got it too, and I dreaded having to do it all without him (which just reminds me how lucky I am to have a husband who carries so much of the load for me).

Fast forward to yesterday evening.  We'd been going on two days of fussiness, dirty diapers, and a really bad case of diaper rash.  Some research on the internets (I love saying "internets," don't you?) suggested that a baking soda bath would be great for the diaper rash, so I dumped a few tablespoons in the bath and plopped Grace in it just before bedtime.   Here is the sequence of events that followed.

-     As I'm washing her hair, she starts crying and rubbing her eyes.  She is never bothered by (tear-free) soap in her eyes, so I ponder for a few seconds what might be going on when I remember the freaking baking soda.

-     I curse the internets (and myself for forgetting about the baking soda).

-     I try and rinse her eyes out with fresh water for a minute, but she screams, so I go to get her out of the bath tub.

-     She poops in the bath tub.  

Side note:  I feel like I'm kind of blowing the no-poop rule out of the water here.  {No pun intended.}  Sorry about that, but this story really kind of revolves around it.  For the rest of this post, we'll just say "glitter" instead.  

-     Ahem.  She glitters in the bath tub.

-     Micah realizes what's happening and helps me hose her off and clean the tub.

-     I call the doctor while Micah dries her off and puts on her PJs.  I get an answering service who says they'll page the on-call pediatrician.

-     Grace calms down and eventually falls to sleep while we wait for the doctor to call.

-     The doctor finally calls.  An hour later.  He says to call poison control.

-     I panic.  And then I call poison control and am told that we need to flush her eyes with fresh water.  For fifteen minutes.  Or else we can go to the emergency room, where they'll do the exact same thing.

-     I die a little.  And then we wake our sweet girl up, discover she's glittered again, clean her again, and then put her in the tub again.

-     Micah gets the fun job of trickling water down her forehead while she squirms and splashes around.  I bribe her to keep her eyes open by playing her favorite Pop Goes the Weasel video.  And feel like the worst mom ever.

-     After the longest fifteen minutes of my life, we are done and are about to pull her out of the tub.

-     And then she glitters again.

I kid you not.  I almost started crying.

-     We clean her again, Micah cleans the bath tub again, and I put a new diaper on her and zip up her PJs.  Again.

-     Apparently we cut her off in the bath, because she freaking glitters again and needs yet another diaper change.  At this point, I really do cry.

-    We get another fresh diaper on her, zip up her PJs once again, and finally put her to bed.

As I soak in the tub a little while later, myself, trying to wash the day off, I do my best to have a little perspective.  I know these days are short.  I know that she won't be small forever.  And I thank the Lord that cuddles from Mommy can still fix almost anything.  I realize that one day she'll be sixteen with a broken heart, and my hug won't fix it.  

So for now, we'll deal with the dirty diapers.  

And do our best to steer clear of baking soda.