Seriously,...

...where did that come from.

Ok, I'm a mom, and therefore, poop and throw-up are big parts of my day-to-day experience. If you can't handle that, skip this post.

This morning Dillon worked long and hard on his bm. It was like marbles that rolled out of his diaper. This particular experience is sad for Dillon, because it makes him uncomfortable. But, as a cloth dipe mummy, it is pretty great news for me. The harder the poop, easier the clean-up.

I put Dillon down for his afternoon nap and was surprised that he never fell asleep. He was in there for about 45 minutes, and when the talking turned into fussing, and then all out crying, I went in to check on him. I was all ready to scold and reinforce that "this is nap-time" and "you will lay down" and "Mommy's not coming back." I was shocked to discover that he had been in there swimming is his own runny mess. It was everywhere. Neither of us had much fun cleaning it up. And, frankly, we're out of practice as this sort of thing hasn't happened much in the last 6 months.

Later in the day, Dillon was feeling pretty great, having purged himself of some serious nasty. So, to celebrate, he ate too much. After a little play-time, he came back to make sure he still had a mommy and I noticed his face was covered in "I ate too much" barf. Then, as I do, I retraced his steps to find the scene of the crime. He must have been feeling badly about the poop incident, because he had thoughtfully leaned over a conveniently placed rag. Cleaning up barf has never been a more heart-warming experience. I must have the most considerate baby ever born.

I'll end here before I over-think the last statement and change my mind.