We were on our own come Friday afternoon when my parents drove away.
Ok, done talking about that before the tears well up.
Saturday morning we had to go back to the hospital to do a blood draw on Baby K because her pediatrician was concerned about her billirubin levels (jaundice) and she needed a second PKU screen.
AND since I cannot drive, that meant ALL of us were off to the hospital. AND since it was a Saturday we had to start out in the germ infested, no-one-with-the-piggy-flu-or-any-other-sickness-better-come-within-25-feet-of-my-newborn (or my boys for that matter), ER.
Then we ended up on the pediatric floor where AFTER we let B and G play in the playroom there, noticed the sign that said the play area was for the sick children on that floor and NOT clean. Yeah, they had the “NOT” capitalized on THEIR sign, that wasn’t just me typing that here. Let’s just say it’s a good thing there was a Purell dispenser every 5 feet. I think they had to refill them all after we left the building…
But let’s back track a little, shall we?
BEFORE leaving for the hospital it was kinda crazy getting the boys showered and ready to go. I had to pump and also needed to rinse myself off and Little G loves to run around the house naked after he gets clean and well long story short, he’s no longer allowed to do that.
I caught him in our long hallway and he looked up at me and said “Stinky!”
I (like the very distracted OMG I HAVE THREE KIDS NOW! Mother that I am), ignored him and figured he just tooted or something and proceeded to lay him on his bed to put his diaper on.
He had poop ALL down his legs and on his bottom and now, it was on the coverlette on his bed. I hollered for Tim and he came and asked if I wanted to clean G or the bed and I opted for the bed. Mostly because I thought there was just a little on the bed but after further investigation I realized that it was much worse than I had originally surmised. So in the washer it went.
I kept thinking in my head that it wasn’t very much poop and Tim (being the one who tossed him in the bath tub) exclaimed “It was more than you thought!”
Then The B Man found it. In our living room, on the floor. Of course all you had to have was a nose and be within 15 feet of it to recognize that something was certainly “rotten in Denmark.” I looked down and all I could do was start laughing and yelling to Tim that we found the “real” poop.
And right after that I raised mine eyes to the heavens and thanked the good Lord that we have ceramic floors in our living room.
Oh and now, I’m really glad my MIL is here now for reinforcements. We are no longer outnumbered. At least not this week.