Let's start with Isaiah. My first born, the sole reason I started having to learn how to live with my heart outside my body. As you'll recall, he's been ill for a few days, but has shown significant improvement over the last day or so - no more fever or vomiting. Last night, the darling child did NOT sleep. I swear, either Evan or I was in that room trying to soothe him back to sleep all night long. It was so infuriating that at around 3:00 am, when I had finally reached my limit and Isaiah was yet again screaming, I said to Evan, "I'm either going to just lay in bed and sleep with him or slap him silly."
Of course, I did neither. That was just the zombie brain talking.
Isaiah finally fell asleep and came in to our room around 6:00 am for his morning snuggle time with Mommy (which I will sorely miss starting Thursday when I'm teaching for three weeks straight!). One moment he was fine and the next, he rolled over and had blood streaming out of his nose. I got him to lay still while I ran to the bathroom and tried not to have a heart attack. I got him cleaned up and moved him to the kitchen for breakfast.
While Isaiah threw a tantrum (the first of many on this day), I heard Micah wake up in his bedroom. He made pleasant little happy sounds, so I let him be for a little while. I gave Isaiah his breakfast and went to get Micah after letting him play in his crib for maybe eight minutes or so.
The smell is what hit me first, but it still didn't prepare me for what I was about to see in the crib.
Micah had blown out his diaper so badly that the poop had shot up the back of his diaper and onto his back. During all that time he was cooing so pleasantly, he has been playing with the poop! There was poop all over the crib sheet, the crib bumper, the wall, the crib itself, the floor, Micah's hair, face, hands, feet...
There was poop everywhere.
It was all I could do not to throw up while I cleaned up the historic mess. And all before 8:00 am!
But it wasn't over yet, oh no. Later in the day, when I heard Isaiah wake up from his nap crying, I walked into his room to discover he had gotten another bloody nose and this time, it had soaked his pillow. He had been laying in it for goodness knows how long, so he had dried blood all over his face and head in addition to the fresh stuff that was still coming from his nose. He was hysterical for the next hour or so and wouldn't let me clean him up as much as I wanted to. I finally got him settled in on my lap to watch WALL.E and tried to ignore the stale blood smell still lingering in his hair.
That's when I started to cry.