My wife is awesome, and if you don't think so, you need a lesson in awesomeness. Here's her version of this past week, it has been a tough one, but as always, God has given us the strength to endure.Well, it started with another virus. Tuesday morning things started to go south. Puddin' was not herself. By that evening she had a runny nose and diarrhea. This is a great toddler combination and the diaper rash that accompanies it all is so fun. Howard had to work late Tuesday and Wednesday night. Tuesday night I got up out of bed about 86 times to check if Puddin' had messed her pants. Sleep deprivation is a common side effect of one's toddler's virus. Toddlers love baby saline drops and snot sucking bulbs. This is quite fun and should become a national competition. I have now read Garden Buddies, Pooh, Roo and Tigger Too, and Raggedy Ann and Andy Sharing & Caring 542 times. Thursday, I thought to myself, "Self you can get some things done in between snot wipes and all the rest. I had done a load of laundry and was giving Lucy a bath (I had already scrubbed Ebenezer) when I heard Puddin' awaken from her nap. Upon entering her room I knew that she had had a significant BM. Upon taking my child out of her crib and placing her on the changing table, I knew this would be no ordinary diaper change. To leave out all the horrifying details, let's just say that Huggies should invent a body suit. Anyway, I thought out loud, "I've got to carefully plan this one. I grabbed a plastic bag and placed the said diaper in it. I put on another one just to buy time. I took the changing pad cover and all with me as I picked up Puddin', swaddled by the changing pad cover. I had to keep the dogs away while I squatted beside the bathtub with Jorja on my knee. I began filling her bathtub with water while she was squirming to get down. I grab another plastic sack, place the toddler on a huge postpartum diaper I still had, took her onesy off over her hips so that I would not smear anything any worse than I already had. I then collected onesy, old diaper and changing pad cover into the postpartum diaper and placed all in plastic sack. I was not going to save any of it. Not this time. I put Jorja in the bath and hosed her down. I then used a hairdryer to dry her poor little diaper rash area. I put thick lanolin ointment on the rash, diapered her and redressed her. At this point I knew she would want her formula. I put her on one hip and with my left hand made the bottle. Just as I was about to sit down to let her take it, Howard came through the door!!! My hero!! My knight in shining armor!! He fed her and I held back tears. He said, "you can cry if you need to." I said, "No, I'm not going to cry. I'm getting what Puddin' has and crying will only add to my congestion." I then got her dinner ready and then I went to Wal-Mart to get some much needed grocery items and time ALONE. I felt like a rebel in my '98 Caddie. I was free of poop and snot for a couple of hours and was making my way down the highway. I needed some rebel music to be my soundtrack for this moment of reverie. As I shuffled through my CD selections in my 6 CD changer, I stopped on Billy Squier's Christmas Is the Time to Say I Love You. I listened to it 3 times. It was the best I could do. And because I was alone in my car, I actually drove up to the speed limit--my cruise was set on a firm 65. I now have more overnight diapers, formula and chocolate. I have a sore throat too, but I'm still reliving my wild evening with a twinkle in my eye. Here's to you Billy!!!
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