Poop.

Today is brought to you by the letter C. C is for Crap.
Crap is what happened last night. ;)

So. You might have heard we have a flea problem at the VT's. Either our cat brought in a colony of fleas, or the previous owners failed to mention their flea farm in the carpet. Either way, we've been vacuuming constantly, spreading borax and flea pesticide, and trying to beat those little buggers without bombing the place.
The other day - and this will show you how I've changed into a MOM -  I found a flea on my daughter's sock. And I grabbed it. WITH MY FINGERS. I don't touch bugs...but you come near my daughter? IT IS ON!
I flushed that bug right down the sink. And felt good about it. :)

So last night Andrew spread diatomaceous earth on our carpet, which resulted in billowing clouds of sea-creature exoskeleton powder. That's what diatomaceous earth is. Ew.
But it's supposed to be amazing at killing fleas, and it's non-toxic, so I feel pretty good about it.
The problem is, you don't want to get a lot of it on your skin, because it's abrasive and dries out your feet. So we were sortof exiled to our queen sized bed, which currently resides in our living room (that's another story).
As we went to bed, I got everything I needed for the night on a little table right next to the bed, so I wouldn't have to get out of bed and step on the powder. Diapers, my pump, hand sanitizer, etc.
"We only have 4 wipes left...hopefully Evelyn doesn't poop tonight." Said I, to Andrew.
HA.
It was 2:30 am. Evelyn woke up hungry, so I nursed her sitting crisscross applesauce on the bed. I put my pillow under her for extra cushion.
Then it happened. The gurgleurgleurgleurgle sound of Evie filling her pants. Oh shoot. 
And it didn't stop. She kept going, and I became increasingly concerned for the welfare of her diaper. She smiled and cooed at me, as I lifted her off my pillow...and saw the yellow trademark. Blowout.
Worst one ever. I woke Andrew up and together we somehow managed to get her cleaned up, redressed in a new onesie, and my pillow removed to the laundry pile.
Wipe count: 0.
Then it was 6am. Evelyn was hungry again, so I woke up to feed her...and once again heard THE SOUND.
NOOO! We have no wipes! I have to go old-school and use a wash cloth??? Poop! Literally!
So I slipped on my flip flops and got some cloths wet and went back to the bed to face the second poopy diaper of the night.
And it was going so well...except as I removed the dirty diaper, it snagged the clean one I had placed underneath her, and at that very same moment, she decided to finish the job. All over my sheets. I moved her to a different spot on the bed, while simultaneously trying to wipe her down and avoid the diapery mess...and watched in complete awe as she continued to poop! So now we had a trail going. And I didn't have wipes. Or any help, since Andrew had left for work.
I don't know how I managed. I think I may have had celestial help, since somehow she ended up at least somewhat clean, with new clothes on.
And I had to throw the entire bedding set into the wash this morning.

Now I'm at my parent's. It's too powdery at home...we'll have to vacuum everything up and wipe everything down this evening, because tomorrow morning I get my wisdom teeth removed, and I can't recover in the dusty disrepair that is now my home.
You know? I'm gonna survive this. And I'm going to look back on this someday and laugh. :)
Actually, to be honest, it's a little funny right now. I should get a t-shirt that says "I survived September, 2013". ;)
Toodle-loo!