blame it on the cows

babies are great for adding humor to an otherwise not humorous situation. take this week for example.

we got home from the beach last saturday, and spent saturday and sunday with my dad, step mom and niece, who so graciously drove into town for the night so they could see bella. we took the babies to the playground, went to eat, took them to another playground, took walks. the babies played and had a good time.

monday and tuesday were business as usual and joel returned to work. tuesday evening, we got the call that joel's grandfather passed away. while we were in hawaii, joel's grandmother passed, and he wasn't able to make it to the funeral, so he wanted to be sure to make it to his grandfather's. it would be a quick trip, but we packed up the car, drove 10 hours up, stayed less than 24 hours and turned around. on the day of the funeral, joel got a call that his other grandmother passed away that morning. we got back on friday, and on sunday, he will drive up to charlotte for the memorial service, coming back sunday night.

when it rains it pours.

before i get into the funny part of this story (yes, there actually is one), let me say, joel's grandpa (his fathers father) was a pretty amazing man. sitting around before and after the funeral, i heard stories of his time fighting in world war 2. in the army, he fought in 3 countries, proudly serving his, during one of the most devastating wars we have known. they didn't have much money, but he sent every penny he made home to his wife. when all was said and done, they had 11 children, losing one in childbirth. he lived humbly, but worked hard all his life.

joel's grandma (his mothers mother) was a strong woman. the wife of a preacher, she raised 6 children. she had a stroke in the early 2000's and made a very strong recovery. she was a sweet woman. i have only known her since her stroke, but from what i hear of her before, she was pretty formidable. i know that she will be greatly missed.

both had a lasting legacy of children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and on the day of his death, joel's grandpa became a great-great grandpa.

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**warning. this part of the post contains pictures that are not for the weak stomached. read at your own risk. seriously. i warned you**

time for funny. because, with a kid like mine, there isn't a dull moment. it's true.

as you know (or maybe you don't) i have made all of bella's food since she was a week shy of 6 months. i've been lucky to be able to stay at home with her, and have made it a point to make or prepare everything she eats.

vacations have been no exception. but this weekend, i made the executive decision to just buy some jars and feed her that, because it would be too hard to make or find food that was suitable for her to eat on the road.

thursday morning, we get up and get ready for the funeral. joel's extended family live in the country. they live in kentucky on rolling hills and farm land, and it's beautiful. but, with farm land comes livestock, and whoever said country air smells good may have had a deviated septum. or a nose filter. driving through the country to get to the town for the funeral, we drove through an area that reeked to high heavens. both of us were gagging and making funny faces while rolling down the windows and gasping for air. the smell didn't really fade much until we got into the town. we stopped at a gas station so i could get some coffee (no starbucks in the country, you know) and when i came back, joel looked at me sheepishly and said, "uh, i think we may have a problem with bella".

i walk around the car to the car seat, peer in through the rolled down window and i see it. the culprit of the stench we had blamed on the poor pigs, cows and chickens. poo. and not just normal poo. lots and lots of it. puddled around her legs. splattered around her feet. on her hands. in her hair. on her face. i'm not even sure how it got everywhere, because it looked like she had rolled around and splashed in it. keep in mind, she was buckled into her car seat, so this scenario is highly unlikely. nonetheless, she is covered from head to toe, and the smell is unbearable. and she is sleeping peacefully.

we clean her off, and now sit through the funeral, joel in a suit and tie, me in a nice dress, and our baby, practically nekked. it looked like we just picked up a homeless kid off the side of the road and brought her with us. the impromptu bath in the sink didn't do much good, and i can still smell her.

and of course, people want to hold her. and carry her around. people are carrying my stinky, poop baby around with them. i was mortified.

we get home, get her changed and bathed, and most of the rest of the evening goes off without a hitch. until i sat her down for dinner and noticed she was a little....stinky. again. i take off her pants and sure enough, poo. all over her. up her tummy, up her back, down her legs. all over.

here's where i have to step in. we have cloth diapered her since 6 weeks and have NEVER had even the slightest smidge of a leak. not once. no explosions, no dribbles. nothing. until now. but this isn't a little bit, either. this is like, full on biological warfare type poo. filled the diaper and left puddles on the floor, type poo. i actually threw away one of her diapers, and if you know about cloth diapers, you know they aren't super duper cheap. but i wasn't even trying to salvage this one. that's how bad it was.

i washed her car seat, her clothes, her diapers, and any other piece of material that may have possibly come into contact with her, and pack her up. saturday morning, we leave and our 10 hour trip becomes a constant, "::sniif, sniff:: you smell that!? again!?" pull over, change the baby, wipe down all surfaces with our new bff-lysol wipes, get in the car and drive. rinse, repeat.

my only consolation from this is, while i was cleaning her up at the funueral home, joel (who is gagging and almost puking at the front of the car) says to me, "you are a strong woman. i could never do what you do". that made it all worth it.

stick figure saturday: poop!

i just learned about this fun thing that ericka over at alabaster cow does, called stick figure saturday. i love stick figures. i used to make them all the time at work, ehem....i mean...at....home.

none of those people read this blog so what do i care. i made them of people climbing palm trees,drowning in the deep end (while the slacker out there snoozed), and pooping in the pool. which seems to be a common trend in my life. the "poop" part, not the "in the pool" part. well. you'll see.

so this was my house at 1 am. and again at 3 am. oh, and again at 5 am. last night.

baby screaming. dog hacking. daddy sleeping. mommy....WIDE.AWAKE. this morning, daddy asked mommy, did you get up last night? he commonly asks me this. like "wow, i slept so well last night, nothing could have POSSIBLY happened!" but, my dear, lots happened last night. the new dog hocked up a lung. your baby cut another tooth. the old dog wiggled his way up to my face, at which point he decided to rip one. uh huh. i know, that is so gross. but IT HAPPENED! i mean, i can't hide the truth. so when daddy wakes up and asks mommy did she wake up, i want to give him the "devil-is-coming-out-of-my-face" face. instead, i give him a grumpy, "grrrrYES!"

then, i get out of bed, change baby's diaper (poop. lots of it.), then go to the laundry room to toss her diaper in the pail, when i smell...well.....more poop. and not "sweet baby ate carrots and peaches" poop. more like, "rescue dog ate death" poop.

yep. i was right. all over my living room floor. twice. and one was more puddly than poopy. and guess what daddy says to mommy. "man that sucks. you gonna clean it up?" to which i respond, "your turn!" and he runs out of the room gagging. saying "i just can't".

in his defense, he offered to do anything i wanted and take me out for breakfast. but then he just made breakfast. which was really good. whatever. i still had to pick up runny poop. and now i have to clean up from breakfast.