Last night when Bridget woke up for her nightly feeding she ate like normal and nearing the end I was getting ready to put her back in her bed when she decided it would be an excellent time for a poop.
But not just a poop, a blowout.
I know it doesn't look that bad, but it was everywhere.
I know it doesn't look that bad, but it was everywhere.
I thought I could just wipe her down and head back to bed but it required a bath.
Baths in the middle of the night aren't the best baths, I tend to be impatient.
Bridge seemed to enjoy it.
It's funny, babies don't seem to apply to any of the social rules,
I get so happy every time she poops.
Even when it's at 3:30AM.
Everyone's nicer after a bowel movement.
That brings us to a few nights before.
I get up with Bridget in the night and 98% of the time Trevor sleeps through any noise she or I makes. Which I am grateful for, I would feel bad if he were a light sleeper.
On this night I was up feeding Bridget, Trevor didn't stir when I got up to get her.
Usually when I feed her in the night I sit in the chair with my head down and doze until she's ready to change sides.
I had my head down when I felt someone touch me!
It came from deep in my gut, a raspy explosion out of my mouth:
"OH MY GOSH!"
As I gripped my baby tighter to my body in a protective hold,
I started swinging my other arm ready to do some lasting damage to my perpetrator.
"Oh, Whoa! Hey!"
It was Trevor.
He had come in on his way to the bathroom and decided to stop and was giving me a kiss on the forehead when he was assaulted.
But the damage was done.
Adrenaline was pumping through my veins.
Bridget was crying.
And Trevor had some pretty good slap marks.
Have you ever watched the discovery channel, Trevor?
They call us Mama Bear for a reason.
It took us all a little while to get back to sleep.
We love 3:30 in the morning.
It's the new 9:00.
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