OR: Henry the Fifth has a diaper rash.
Yup. His first diaper rash ever. We were wondering why he was so cranky at night. When we saw the rash develop, it all made sense.
Teething = more poops = raw bum = angry baby.
I consulted the EXALTED baby guide and found that gratuitous nudity is the cure for diaper rash.
Good thing we have a Bissel... because Mr. Pantsless made the most of
the opportunity. A wizzin' he went... on the carpet... on the
bathmat... in the kitchen... in his crib... on daddy's side of the
bed...on the guest bed because our sheets were in the wash.
To diaper or not to diaper?
The first night of the rash, Hubby and I debated about whether to dry
him thoroughly and diaper for the night. Henry the Fifth made it very
clear that diapering was not an option. So hubby had a fantstic idea.
In addition to the multilayered pee-pad crib I made, we would dress him
in a sleeper with the crotch open. Awesome. Assless Chaps it was.
Genius, pure genius. Baby stayed warm and rash looked a tad better in the AM.
As fate would have it, the following morning wasn't normal. I had a cleaning
service (thanks mom) coming at 9 and needed to straighten up. I went to
the baby's room to grab a diaper and instead started putting toys away.
Upstairs, Henry is a Free Range Baby, with access to a few rooms. You
already know what happened, right?
When I stepped out of his room and looked into ours I had a flashback to the dog, when he was old and grey. Poop. Everywhere. Shmears of poo from the door of our room to the foot of the bed. And at the end of the trail was Henry the Fifth, in his naked glory, laying there in his secretary pose, covered in poo from the waist down, chewing on a bath toy.
AAAUUUUGH!
run, pick up baby, rinse and bathe baby, DIAPER baby. Run downstairs. Bucket, Resolve and a scrub brush. Wipe up chunks with towels (real towels, goin' green, right?) Scrub multi-poo spots. Straighten up rest of house. Aaaaah, the housekeeper is here. And whe was really sweet too.
Hubby got home late, very tired. He ran the Bissel only to discover afterward that he had put the wrong product in the machine. Luckily that product was the wrong density and didn't go through the machine. Carpet survived, Bissel survived.
Later that evening, Mr. Pantsless escaped from Baby Jail and made his mark in the off limits part of the house....
Yup. His first diaper rash ever. We were wondering why he was so cranky at night. When we saw the rash develop, it all made sense.
Teething = more poops = raw bum = angry baby.
I consulted the EXALTED baby guide and found that gratuitous nudity is the cure for diaper rash.
Good thing we have a Bissel... because Mr. Pantsless made the most of
the opportunity. A wizzin' he went... on the carpet... on the
bathmat... in the kitchen... in his crib... on daddy's side of the
bed...on the guest bed because our sheets were in the wash.
To diaper or not to diaper?
The first night of the rash, Hubby and I debated about whether to dry
him thoroughly and diaper for the night. Henry the Fifth made it very
clear that diapering was not an option. So hubby had a fantstic idea.
In addition to the multilayered pee-pad crib I made, we would dress him
in a sleeper with the crotch open. Awesome. Assless Chaps it was.
Genius, pure genius. Baby stayed warm and rash looked a tad better in the AM.
As fate would have it, the following morning wasn't normal. I had a cleaning
service (thanks mom) coming at 9 and needed to straighten up. I went to
the baby's room to grab a diaper and instead started putting toys away.
Upstairs, Henry is a Free Range Baby, with access to a few rooms. You
already know what happened, right?
When I stepped out of his room and looked into ours I had a flashback to the dog, when he was old and grey. Poop. Everywhere. Shmears of poo from the door of our room to the foot of the bed. And at the end of the trail was Henry the Fifth, in his naked glory, laying there in his secretary pose, covered in poo from the waist down, chewing on a bath toy.
AAAUUUUGH!
run, pick up baby, rinse and bathe baby, DIAPER baby. Run downstairs. Bucket, Resolve and a scrub brush. Wipe up chunks with towels (real towels, goin' green, right?) Scrub multi-poo spots. Straighten up rest of house. Aaaaah, the housekeeper is here. And whe was really sweet too.
Hubby got home late, very tired. He ran the Bissel only to discover afterward that he had put the wrong product in the machine. Luckily that product was the wrong density and didn't go through the machine. Carpet survived, Bissel survived.
Later that evening, Mr. Pantsless escaped from Baby Jail and made his mark in the off limits part of the house....
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