That Would Have Been Helpful If There Was a Jellyfish Stinging Me

So I had 3 kinds of showers yesterday.

In chronological order:

1. Vomit.

2. Golden.

3. Plain old garden-variety H2O, thanks to showers #1 & 2.

Yeah, super awesome.

Let me back up.

Out of nowhere, Bonnie has this weird little cough. I took her to the ped, sure that she'd have bad ears, but all was well. Maybe it's croup but Dr. G couldn't hear anything since that's more of a nighttime issue so he sent her off with a pat on the butt and suggested that I take her in a steam shower before bed. That will be $10, Mrs. Tobin.

I'm always thrilled to waste $10 and find out my kid isn't dying. Seriously.

So, yeah , she has a cough but no big deal. Well, slightly big deal b/c she's been waking up SCREAMING at 12:30 every night (which is totally why I thought we were looking at another ear infection) but truly, not a big deal in the grand scheme of things.

At bedtime, I steamed up the bathroom, stripped us both down and hopped in the shower. I knew we didn't technically have to get in the shower but hey, when I go I go hard so I figured why not get as close to the steam source as possible?

Queen B was so not a fan of her first shower. Lots of screaming and clawing. (Which reminds me -- I totally forgot to clip her nails before bed. Again.)

We spent a few minutes in there with me holding her and acting all fake jolly -- "Look at Mommy! I'm so happy in the shower! Mommy's hair is getting all wet! Oh, that feels so nice and warm!" -- and her howling in outrage.

We climbed out, toweled off and settled into the chair in her room for her bedtime bottle.

I know, I know, she's 15 months old and too old for a bottle but it soothes her. Really, it does. It comforts her and helps her get into sleep mode.

Well, usually.

Last night?

Not so much.

So she's laying on me and placidly drinking her bottle when all of a sudden, she rolls onto her side (on me, mind you) gives a weird cough and basically opens the floodgates of vomit all over me.

She puked on me.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

I am pretty sure she puked up food I ate when I was pregant with her.

It was epic.

So she pukes, sits up and looks at me like, "WOW, wasn't that something???", picks up a half-chewed blueberry and eats it.

AND EATS IT.

Being covered in vomit didn't trigger my gag reflex whatsoever but watching her eat it off me almost did.

I gathered her and the vomit up into the long skirt of my nightgown (I knew I bucked the t-shirt and PJ pants trend for a reason!), ran to the bathroom, stepped into the tub and dropped my skirt.

Chunks of banana, blueberries and blackberries everywhere. All over the tub where I need to clean us both off.

Awesome move, dumbass.

So she's screaming because she thinks she's getting another shower and I'm wondering how I am going to clean up the mess with her hanging on me.

Did I mention that Tom was at Jack's baseball game?

God bless Natalie who is the best helper in the entire world. Let me go on record now and apologize for all of the times I threatened to sell her to gypsies because that kid has my back like none other.

I cleaned the tub out as best I could with Bon's destroyed sleeper, tossed the fruit-speckled tub mat onto the floor and ran a bath for us. Once I collapsed into the tub with her laying on me, she calmed down. Natalie brought me washclothes and the phone so I could ask Tom to come right home rather than stopping for a snack after the game.

Then I called my mom. I don't know why, I just always call her. She wanted to know if Bonnie had thrown up mucus which would be good. Gee, I don't know, Mom. Let me check my hair. Hmmm, I see blackberries, banana...this might be mucus! Oh no, wait, that's actually partially digested cheddar goldfish. So glad I called for some sympathy, right?

Without the tub mat, the tub floor was slippery so I was afraid to get up with one hand to balance and one to hold the slippery baby. Hence, we sat and sat and sat, Bon and me laying in the tepid water and Natalie chattering away from her perch on the toilet tank.

It was only a matter of time.

Babies don't understand "holding it", after all.

Who would win the race to the finish? Tom or Bonnie's bladder?

Bon didn't pee on me until Tom was home, in the bathroom and reaching down to pick her up, just when I thought I was in the clear.

We almost made it. So close and yet so far as I lay there with a puddle of baby urine in my belly button.

Good times.

Tom hustled Bon off for Bedtime Prep Part 2 and I stood up to wash off all the fluids my sweet baby "shared" with me. Hey, it could have been worse. I could have been soaking in browntown if you know what I mean.

Motherhood -- it's not for the faint-hearted and certainly not for the weak-stomached.