It's all a cute blog post until, the next morning, Ivie wakes up happily at 7:30a (later than normal, although Macie was up at 6:30a), singing about Elmo, and I go into her room to find the same smell as before, but, this time the poopy has escaped the diaper, BIG-TIME.
And Ivie hasn't stayed still in her bed to minimize the damage, either. She's sitting on her headboard shelf, playing with her hair bows. So that means the sheets, the sleeping bag, the pillow, AND the furniture all have evidence of the blow-out.
When poopy is everywhere, it's hard to know where to start. But it's easy to know where you ultimately end up. With the kid in the bathtub, playing happily with toys and amusing her observant sister (who sits alongside the tub in her bouncy seat), while Mommy rinses pj's out in the toilet, bags the poopy diaper and the 15 used wipes, changes sheets, sprays air freshener, and starts the first of what will now be multiple loads of laundry for the day.
All before 8:30a on a Saturday.