Where the hell are my hip waders?

I think the Chicky Household can now be categorized as a Bio-Waste Site.

The Child and I are both sick with head colds of the coughing, sneezing, runny and/or stuffy nose type. Who knew a wee babe could produce so much mucus? Between her nose and mine I'm knee deep in snotty tissues. After a day of non-stop wiping she is now giving me looks of horror after every sneeze, like she knows that the tissue is on its way towards her sore, little snout. And I wish that snot was the worst of it. Boy, do I wish. Let's recap my day. Shall we?

We woke to a normal day in New England. In other words, Snow. Shit, now I have to go out and shovel.

After an uneventful breakfast (mmm, Bananas and Oatmeal) with very little food throwing on the Child's part, we settled down on the floor for some playtime and Today Show watchin'. Then off to bed for the morning nap (Oh, dear Morning Nap... I'll miss you when you're gone). Chicky Baby even slept pretty well, about an hour and a half, which gave me time to watch a bit of Regis and Kelly. Emma Thompson was on and she looked fabulous. Loved the boots.

The Child wakes, is promptly changed and dressed for the day, and we park ourselves on the couch with a bottle that she drinks with gusto. Half of which she promptly throws back up all over me and herself after a nasty coughing fit. Yippee, its not even 11:30am.

We change out of our nasty clothing and into clean outfits (okay, I was in a clean outfit, she was in a diaper. I wasn't taking any chances with another change of clothes - I have enough laundry to do). I do some vacuuming and she chews on the power cord. And, no, I'm not kidding about that. When I'm through cleaning up the pet hair that has gathered overnight, its time for lunch. After a bit of a struggle we find something that she will actually let pass her lips. Apple, raisin and granola mush, just in case you were wondering. The pieces of kiwi that I lovingly cut into teeny bits for her were thrown on the floor, much to the delight of the circling vultures... I mean, the dogs. Twenty-four nose wipes later (or, roughly, 1 every 2 - 3 minutes) and, thankfully, no more vomiting, its time for nap.

Nap does not go well. While I'm out shoveling (friggin' New England) The Child wakes up a few times. She eventually puts herself back to sleep but, unfortunately, that means that naptime was not as restful for her as it should be. And you know what that means... The return of Cranky Baby! When she's up for good I go to her room and find that Chicky Baby is covered in snot. But not just over the nose area. Her face is completely covered in a thin film of mucus like a layer of skin that's peeling off. I promptly wash her face which pisses her off. Its 3pm. What am I going to do with this sick child for four more hours until bedtime?

Let's try a bottle! It worked so well the first time and it will give Mommy's Boobs a rest. She drinks 2 ounces. Oooh-kay. The Child starts screaming so we play with blocks, she loves pushing them over. She's bored with that after 2 minutes. Stacking rings? Nope. Books? Uh-uh. Pulling tissues out of the tissue box? Fun for about 30 seconds. She's crying again. Does she have a fever? Ever so slightly, about 99.2 degrees. Ear Ache? Don't think so. Let's try a snack... Bananas and Cheerios, that's always a big hit. We occupy ourselves with snack time for a while and then off for more play. The snack obviously worked because she sits happily on the floor and plays with her blocks. Ah, peace at last.

Not so fast... I hear a strange noise coming from the upstairs landing. As I round the corner to investigate I see Lana, the black lab, throwing up on the floor. I shoo her out the back door and return to the mess armed with paper towels and cleaner. I'm cleaning the small puddle when my eyes wander up the stairs and its ALL THE WAY UP THE STAIRS. The newly carpeted stairs. God Dammit! As I'm cleaning the child starts screaming again.

Again, is she feverish? Not really. Is anyone sticking her with pins? Not yet. Does she want some dinner? Get the hell away from me with those carrots, Woman! We dance and sing until its close enough to bath- and bedtime. Close enough. I run the bath and get her undressed. She loves being naked so this should make her happy. The Child crawls away from me a bit, turns to look at me and then pees on the floor. SonofaBitch. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

And here I am with Mommy's Little Helper du jour, a not horrible Sonoma County Sauvignon Blanc, watching American Idol and surrounded with used tissues. Tomorrow has got to be better. But those stairs will never be the same.