Thursday, October 22, 2009
Claire is still in the hospital and doing better now. She misses her sisters and has been begging to go home. Katie has also been asking to go see Claire. I explained to Katie that they are not allowing anyone under 18 in to visit due to the flu. Katie thinks I'm making that up. I had the conversation again with Claire today.
Claire, whining- "But I want Katie to come see me! Why can't she?"
Me- "I just got through telling you. They won't let anyone under 18 in."
Claire, still whining- "You could tell them that she's a midget!"
Me- "Hmm. I hadn't thought of that one."
I had to leave N with Marin yesterday to take Claire to the ER. N is not the best at babysitting, in fact I usually try to only leave him with Marin if she is napping. A few months ago I made the mistake of leaving N with the baby while she was awake. By the time I made it to the grocery store I had a text saying simply "baby poopy." N refuses to deal with baby poop. Or toddler poop for that matter.
Yesterday while I was in the ER, I got one of N's emergency poop texts. I called to tell him that I couldn't leave Claire and that he was going to have to deal with it. I gave him detailed instructions on the procedure, something along the lines of "tell her to take off her poopy pants and then hand her a baby wipe and tell her to wipe her butt." At two Marin can practically change her own pants. N did have to help her put a fresh diaper on.
Today I left the hospital and went home for a bit to check on everyone else. I sat at my desk and noticed a foul odor. I examined the bottom of both shoes and really hoped to not find the answer there. The shoes were fine and I continued looking for the source of the smell. I pulled the trash can from beneath my desk and spotted the diaper. Then I started to wonder how poopy pants ended up in my trash can since N wouldn't change a diaper without multiple phone calls, texts and voicemails. I set out in my task to solve the mystery of the poopy pants.
Me- "Katie, did you change the baby's diaper?"
Katie- "No! What are you talking about? You're weird." I decided that was a dead end conversation and moved on to Marin.
Me- "Who changed your pants? Did Katie change your pants?" This time I was greeted with a blank stare and a request for a baba (toddler for yet another cup of milk). I moved on to N, still determined to get some answers.
Me, realizing as the words left my mouth that I sounded like a crazy person- "Did you change the baby's pants?"
N- "Yeah. Well, sort of. I had Marin take her diaper off and throw it away. Then I gave her the baby wipes and told her to wipe her butt. Then I told Katie to put a diaper on her."
Me- "So, you basically just coordinated the diaper change? You didn't really do any of it?"
N- "Nope. I'm the CEO. The CEO of poop."
Man, I totally thought that was my job. It really is a crap title though, if you ask me.