The plethora of children at my house as of late has made me poopy, in more ways than one. Yesterday in the duration of one half hour I had three poopy diapers! Yes, three poopy diapers. Imagine that and all the oh so lovely smells and textures to go along with it. Thankfully, only one was a blow out. No offense to any mothers of toddlers out there, but I can no longer be phased by Palmer's dirty diapers. There is no comparison between an infant's mess and an older child's mess. At least I will be prepared for what is to come, right?
The second way I am poopy is pure and utter exhaustion. No, don't try and correct me. I am not pooped. There is no past tense in this action. I am poopy! I am an extremely light sleeper and normally wake up at the drop of a hat. So when Palmer awakes in the morning I am up and in his room before he even gets his eyes open, let alone he begins to cry. This has not been the case the past couple of days. I have awoken bleary eyed, in a daze of confusion to a blood curdling screaming child. Today I was able to go back to sleep with the baby because I didn't have any additional children to tend, and even after another two and a half hour nap I awoke in the same exhausted befuddled state of half-consciousness. I am currently getting ready for my second nap of the day. I even have my mouthpiece in (Yes, I sleep with a mouth piece. I am that cool.) and my contacts out. Hopefully I will wake up this time a little less poopy. Oh crap! Palmer just woke up crying. Nevermind.