Sunday in the Rose City

It’s 11:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning.  The Sprout is sleeping in her swing.  Mr. I-Don’t-Take-Naps is crashed on the sofa and the dogs are sleeping under the coffee table.  It’s warm here.  Maybe even hot.  The 3rd load of laundry for the day is running in the washer downstairs.  The sound of the washing machine, the rhythmic cranking of the swing, and the birds singing outside have lulled all of us into a summer Sunday stupor.

Sundays are my favorite days.  A day of family and rest.  And we need rest around here.  The last two weeks have seen yet another change in our lives as I needed to go back to work for the last month of school.  Nate and I agreed that following my twelve weeks of maternity leave he would take four weeks of leave from his job so he could stay home with Silvie.  So we’ve switched rolls for a while.  He’s a full-time dad and I’m bringing home the bacon.  It’s working out pretty well although Silvie seems to be the only one getting adequate amounts of sleep.  I really need a nap in the middle of the day to compensate for being awakened every three hours at night.  And this is far too busy of a time in the school year for me to sneak one in at work (Oh, trust me, it’s been done before!).  Sometimes I get to the end of the day and realize I didn’t even use the restroom.  Yikes!

So we’re all a little sleep deprived around here.  Last night compounded the fatigue, when we were all three rudely awakened at 4:30 a.m.  Silvie was in the middle of our bed nursing (or maybe not, since I think we’d both fallen back asleep) when all of a sudden her digestive system went into complete revolt.  Her little cloth diaper could not absorb the deluge of diarrhea fast enough and we were instantly laying in a pool of baby poop.  Nate roused himself from sleep and lurched toward the wall to turn the light on so we could see what was going on.  I sat up and grabbed Silvie out of her puddle.  Apparently this was not the right move as the other end of her digestive system decided to eject all the milk she’d drank in the night.  We were quite a sight–mama, baby, and bed soaked with half-digested milk and yellow baby poop.   Ugh.

Silvie and I went and took a bath right away.  Nate stripped the bed, put on clean sheets, and started the laundry.  By 5:00 the exhausted mama and papa were collapsing back in the bed, and Silvie was laughing and happy and acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.  But let me tell you, this was WAY more than her ordinary puking and pooping.  We have no idea what caused this “system shut-down”.  Was is the warm weather?   Or just another day in the body of a rapidly-developing human?

Whatever it was, it didn’t keep her from being hungry again two hours later and she had no problems keeping all of her early breakfast down.  After that feeding, Nate took her and let me get a few more hours of uninterrupted sleep.  I’m pretty sure they went to the bakery because when I got up there was a fresh chocolate croissant waiting for me.

And so, this Sunday we are taking a day of much-needed rest.  Maybe we’ll make it to the noon service at church.  Maybe we won’t.  We’ll lay in the cool shade of our house and listen to the birds chirp and the neighbor’s annoying weed trimmer and Silvie’s swing and we’ll be grateful for another week of being alive here in the Rose City.

P.S. More entries and pictures coming soon.  Hopefully.


5 responses to “Sunday in the Rose City

  1. omg!!!! i love that i totally got visuals of the three of you laying in a puddle of liquid poo … i’ll be content to let you live in that stage while i just remember it. kudos to you both for handling that about 5000 times better than i would have (and did)!

  2. Yes.. I too enjoyed the visuals.

  3. ah yes, middle of the night covered in liquid gold! I don’t think we had a big puddle though, so I just wiped it off and laid back down!

  4. This post went in a completely different direction than I thought it would. Big puddles are usually not fun. 😉

  5. We have been having a laughing good time sharing this story from your lives.

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