It's a poo-filled day, but it turning out to be a poo-filled week. My youngest has had diarrhea for the past three days, and this morning we all woke up to it in the bed. Another reason the family bed doesn't work so well for me anymore. Poo on the sheets, on him, on my arm, and daddy will be happy to know, Bee favored his pillow for soaking most of the poo up. Not the way I wanted to wake up this morning after not getting any sleep again last night.
Of course, I thought I was going to be able to get away with just washing the sheets and not the mattress pad, since after all, I did have a waterproof crib cover under the sheets. Nope. It had moved its way south of the bed, and the poo made it just next to it, but not on it, sooo helpful. This means two loads of laundry, and not just one. Trekking my way outside, down our long unstable path to our detached garage, through the heat and mosquitoes twice -way more if your account for switching loads into the dryer to avoid the mildew stink. This all brings new meaning to waking up on the wrong side of the bed, because this morning it meant waking up in yellow poo or staying clean. I woke up in poo. I'm not sure I want to know what this foretells about the rest of my day.