Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Ben's fat lip and my little blowout baby.

If you do not care to read about blood, sweat, tears, and other types of bodily functions you should probably stop reading and head back to your Facebook news feed.

If you have the sense of humor of a junior high school kid or have ever had kids, then you may appreciate what I'm about to share.

Last week (or was it the week before?...I have no sense of time in my baby fog) I experienced a 24 hour period of time that was messy. Just plain messy. I can't remember the exact sequence of events, but I think it went something like this.

Ben wet through his nighttime diaper. Changed Ben. Changed the sheets.

A blowout from Ellie. Changed Ellie. Cleaned the clothes.

Benjamin picked his nose as he sat next to me during lunch, declared that he found a "yucky", and proceeded to wipe his boogie on my forearm stating, "Oh thank you, mama, thank you". Wiped my arm. Wiped Ben's nose.

During the same lunch, while burping Ellie, she spit up...down my shirt. Changed clothes.

Benjamin fell and cut his lip. I scooped him up and rocked him as he bled and cried and snotted all over the both of us. Cleaned him up.

Postpartum hot flash as I try to manage comforting Ben while feeding Ellie. Feel like big, sweaty man. Opened the windows.

Ellie had a blowout. Changed Ellie. Cleaned her clothes...and my leg :(

More spit up. More changing.

Oops. Another blowout (no kidding). More changing. More cleaning.

Everybody went to sleep. Ellie slept through the night for the very first time (hurray!) which means that I didn't feed her...for 9 hours. Have you ever woken up in a pool of your own breast milk? I have. Changed my shirt. Changed the sheets.

And so there it is. A 24 hour glimpse into my life. My messy, yet lovely, life.