Code Brown

Dear Caden,

Code Brown. Runny poop is everywhere. Down your leg, in your hair, on the floor. Everywhere. The effects of Daddy giving you too much oatmeal is evident. Of course this only happens when Daddy is nowhere to help with the mess that he inspired. This big of a mess is getting more and more difficult to clean up the further I get along in my pregnancy. I sigh and pick you up, racking my brain to figure out the best options to clean you up without making the mess worse. Bathtub is too far away so the downstairs bathroom sink it is. I want to cry, grumbling at Daddy and his convenient disappearance. My frustration is broken by you laying your head on me. You start patting my back and rubbing my arm going, "Shhh, it's otay Mommy, shhhhh. I help! I clean!" You stand up in the sink and bend over - your bum meets the mirror and now I have poop smeared all over the mirror. I am going to go to my happy place now.

Love,
Mommy