Good Morning, Mom!

You know it's an inauspicious start to your day when you go to retrieve your daughter from her crib in the morning and the first thing she does is hand you some of her own poop.

Yes, you read that right. Gross! Still, I found my self saying, 'um, thank you, sweetie.' (It's an instinct for me to reinforce her any time she hands me something willingly).

Her BM was so profuse and powerful that it managed to come up the front of her diaper. It was on her sheets, it covered her blankie, it defiled her stuffed animals. She had it smeared on her face, her clothes, her hands and her feet.

Cleaning her up was a team effort for Christian and me. And yet, it didn't really bother me. Not that I enjoyed it, but if you had told me two years ago that I would one day be cleaning up a poo-covered toddler and assorted poo-covered accessories with nothing more than feelings of mild inconvenience, I probably wouldn't believe you.

Ah, the blinding power of love.