Stefani's most-fantastical-reads book montage

Crooked Kingdom
Six of Crows
Yellow Brick War
The Wicked Will Rise
Charm & Strange
Their Fractured Light
These Broken Stars
Big Little Lies
I'll Be There
Red Queen

Stefani's favorite books »

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

This one time in the Starbucks parking lot...

I seriously considered using boiling hot latte to sterilize a bink. Allow me to explain...

I picked Addison up from daycare today and headed for town. Since we started feeding rice and solids, we've been going through jammies like you would not believe (okay, if you have an itty bitty, maybe you would believe it...). Carters was on sale at Fred Meyer's and so our mission was to get several new pairs of jammies (and apparently several spring outfits that were just TOO cute to pass up). For the first few minutes of the car ride, Addison was a happy camper and talked to her bugs (not real ones, her furry light up ones on the car seat bar) but pretty soon she was peeved that she couldn't see me and started crying. Not to mention, she hadn't pooped since Sunday, so her tummy was so bloated that she looked like Buddha. So, 20 minutes of crying all the way up to Freddy's ensued. As soon as I got her in the stroller and headed inside, she was peachy again. We shopped, discussed the merits of spring dresses, polka dots, and hats, and then headed next door to Starbucks for a little pick-me-up. We ran into a teacher from my district so we chatted it up for a bit and Addison smiled and cooed at her and showed off her adorable personality. We headed for the car and as I put the brake on to start loading the car I see Addison's bink go flying through the air in slow motion and land, sucky side down, on the nasty pavement.

Oh. (Insert four letter word of your choice here).

This is the exact moment when I realize that I don't have a back-up bink in my bag (::face palm::) - it bit the dust at the doctor's office and I forgot to replace it. So, I stand there for a moment, waiting for the shiznit to hit the proverbial fan. I know I have a twenty minute drive home a little girl who is going to have a fit as soon as I start the car. That's when I looked at my steaming hot latte and briefly considered using it to clean the bink (no, I didn't actually do it. Although there is a distinct possibility that caffeine may actually SLOW my little munchkin down...). I loaded the baby, the stroller, and the loot into the car and said a silent little prayer that we could make it home without screaming. I think it was Garth Brooks who once said something about unanswered prayers... she screamed. And screamed. And screamed some more. It's almost comical to think of how we looked from the outside of the car versus what was actually going on in the inside. From the outside, you see me sipping on Starbucks and a baby in the back seat, batting at her toys. On the inside however, things are much different. Addison is wailing at the top of her lungs about the injustices that she has suffered as John Mayer sings about Heartbreak Warfare... Instead singing along to the music, as it would appear from the outside, I'm chanting, "It's okay, we're almost home." Over and over and over again. And for those mom's who have nursed their babies, you can understand what happens when your baby starts to cry... Oh yes. Massive milk letdown as she howled in the backseat. So, this went on for 20 minutes until we got home, pulled into the garage, and I took her out of the car... then presto, chango - I have a happy little girl again!

Fast forward a few hours, one dose of laxative, and a suppository later to when the magical sound of poo fills my ears from the bouncy seat next to me (and the smell that followed confirmed it). I whisked her away to the changing table to find that one of the most dreaded events possible had occurred. She pooped up her back. Massively. I have no idea how poop can defy gravity and travel UP a diaper and to her armpits, but it did. She was in a onsie that required being pulled over her head and there were massive quantities of poo to contend with. I managed to turn the shirt inside out to avoid getting it in her hair but then had to put down a towel to keep her from rolling around in it. Gross. About a dozen wipes and a new outfit later she's clean and happy and ready to go play again. Twenty minutes later, we enter round two of poop up the back and this time I was lucky enough to stick my finger in it. Ew. I'm totally blaming this episode on The Lame Sauce because if he hadn't posted about it, it NEVER would have happened.

So, that was my day. How was yours?


  1. Sounds like you had quite an adventure yesterday!!

  2. Wow! Nice post! Parental exploits are the best, and it's nice to hear that I'm not crazy. Maybe I am crazy, but everyone is crazy right along side me!

    Thanks for the shout out. I was thinking about an amendment to my original post because of another blowout today. I looked down at my hand and in the palm was a nice smattering of poo. It's true.

    Hang in there and keep 'em coming!


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