Could I *Be* Wearing Any More Clothes?

I should have known what my day was going to be like the second I woke up...

Eric came in to our room lay Evie back down for her early morning nap and to kiss me good-bye, it was then that I realized my left breast had leaked significantly during the night.  It soaked through the nursing pad, my bra, and my shirt.  So I change my shirt and bra and immediately head to the living room to pump.

I am sitting there pumping away, reading blogs and before my usual 15 minutes is up I feel a wet spot on my leg.

In just a few short minutes the bottle over filled and was flowing out on to my pajama pants.

Naturally, I changed my pants.

I proceed about my morning, cleaning the kitchen and getting some chores done.

Evie woke up and is ready for a bottle.  We snuggled in to eat and catch up on last night's television.  She was a little fussy, but not more so than she'd been the last few days with this growth spurt.

She finished the bottle so I pick her up to burp her.  No more than ten seconds go by and...

She violently projectile vomits.

All. Over.

Imagine a mucus-y cottage cheese-y liquid covering your child's face, hair, eye, arm, leg, and body.

Then imagine it running down your arm and soaking into your shirt.

Then imagine what your pants look like after getting caught in the rain.  Then imagine that same about of liquid is baby vomit soaking through the thigh of your pants.

Then imagine what it would look like if you peed your pants while sitting on your couch and the puddle it would leave. Then imagine it was actually a liquid that came out of your small child's mouth.

Then imagine that puddle on the couch was now dripping into a new puddle on the carpet.

Then imagine you stepped in it.

At this point I didn't know what to do first:  change me, change the baby, throw the blanket covering the couch in the washer, or pause the episode of Gossip Girl.

It went like this.  I changed my clothes. Again.  Threw the clothes and the blanket in the washer. Turned off the television. And then stripped down the baby - in the middle of the living room.

The stripping down the baby seemed like a good idea until....

I realized in that short amount of time it took me to change my clothes and start the washing machine she had now POOPED in her cloth diaper.

At this point I had a naked puke-y poop-y baby on my living room floor.  GAH!

To the bath tub!

Too bad I didn't think it through (but was there really time to think?) and prepare the tub and warm up the water before I brought the naked puke-y poop-y baby in the bathroom.

Thankfully, I managed to get her situated without getting any more than a few splashes of bath water on me.  Victory!

While I did have to change my pants three times, my shirt twice, and my bra once... at least she didn't pee on me while getting out of the tub, am I right?

And as for Evie?  She's sleeping happy as a clam, as if nothing ever happened.

It's not even noon and I need a drink.