So today, after my 4 week old little baby boy woke up from a nap crying and me getting enough of a wiff to know he needed changing, proceeded to change what was one of the poopiest diapers I’ve yet had to change.
Afterwhich as I’m unloading all the numerous amounts of wipes I used (I use a lot because I can’t let the poop touch me if I can help it), and a very full diaper into our hightech scent free diaper disposal bin…and just as I am reaching for a fresh new diaper, the little guy decides to set off the automatic sprinkler.
Before I’ve had a chance to catch the stream flying through the air, he’s managed to aim for the entire wall next to his changing table as well as his freshly washed changing table cover.
“Whoaaaaaaaa!!” I say as I’m scurrying to grab the new diaper and cover his little firehose. Finally I have the leak sealed as he is just looking at me wide-eyed and with as much of a half-cracked smile that a 4 week old can have.
“You think that’s pretty funny, dontcha.” I say to him.
As I pull the diaper off and grab yet another pile of wipes, I notice his entire backside and legs are drenched.
“How much pee does a little newborn have??” I thought.
So I clean up his behind the best I can, as well as the wall and his changing table and as I’m getting the last off of it off his right buttcheek, I do one last glorious swipe and the wipe flips a fair amount of pee into my hair and onto my arm.
Sigh. I’m actually laughing at this point.
I pick him up and notice he is still drenched. But he’s crying now because HELLO its now been 7 minutes since he woke up and master Preston has not been fed yet.
30 minutes later, the little guy is satisfied and lets out the biggest belch I’ve yet heard and is slowly dozing off into a drunken state of milky happiness. He lets out one of those cute baby sighs and I think to myself, “Yesssssssssss, I can put him in his swing and actually get something done.”
The little tyke is zonked out again within minutes and I head to the kitchen to make chocolate chip cookies because I’ve been trying to make them for 3 days and haven’t had the chance yet. So now’s my chance. Yes I know, not the best thing for my post-baby diet, but dangitt I went without cookie dough my entire pregnancy and now I want some!
As I’m putting the sugar, butter and eggs into the automatic mixer, I accidentally drop an eggshell in. “Doh!! Noooooooooo!” I said as I stared into my cookie dough as the eggshell got mixed in with the rest of the dough.
10 min later I managed to sort through the dough as best as I could and take out all the tiny fragmented pieces of eggshell.
Checked on the little guy, still sleeping. Phew.
So then I start putting in the flour. Normally I mix it in as I go, but seeing how I’m using my industrial mixer here, I thought I would just put all 4 cups in all at once and then mix.
As soon as I hit the go button, all I see is a cloud of white and realize that I’m now covered in flour, as well as the kitchen counter, and the floor that I just mopped the night before.
Wow, so that was a bad idea. I guess that is what the lid is for.
Got it all cleaned up, and burned my first batch of cookies. But the dough was delicious.
So here I sit covered in flour, pee, and probably some poo too. And you thought being a concert pianist/recording artist was a glamorous thing? Haha.
P.S. I am loving it.
P.P.S. Jace, this is why I’m not ready to do another concert with you yet. I’m afraid all of my moments at the piano thus far have been me lullabying him to sleep – right hand alone while holding him in the left. Maybe I’ll right a song just for the right hand. Bartok did for the left, so why can’t I?
P.P.P.S. I must be seriously sleep deprived when I start writing right instead of wright. I mean write! Right?