It's 2 AM. Guess What Just Happened.
(If you want to skip the full story and get straight to what happened, skip to the bottom ***)
So I'm chilling in bed, watching Hulu, scrolling through Tumblr, Facebooking (basically just doing all of my usual late-night internet stuff because my sleep patterns are all over the place right now), and I smell this smell. And it smells like.... poop. Oooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhkay....
Right now, My S.O and I share a very small apartment bedroom with our daughter. We sleep on a futon mattress on the floor, and she sleeps in a playpen next to us with like 3 light blankets and a billion stuffed animals (mostly Minions). We split this apartment with S.O's sister and brother-in-law, and because they have 2 dogs, we keep all of our cat's stuff in our room, thus we have to lock the cat in our room at night so she doesn't have an accident or get hungry. Between Kiki's stinky litter box gifts, S.O's stinky sleep farts (he's lactose intolerant, but still eats like he isn't and just lets me suffer through his smelliness), and Violet's possible stinky diaper, I wasn't sure where the smell was coming from.
So I pause Hulu, take off my headphones, get up off of the floor (*pop, pop, crack* <-My hips, shoulders, back and knees), stand up and start sniffing around. I sniff the vicinity of S.O; there's his morning breath and general man smell, but it's not the poop smell... I start sniffing around the bedroom in case the cat dropped a deuce somewhere (because she's vindictive and likes to do things like that when I haven't cleaned her litter box soon enough to her liking), and follow my nose to Violet's side of the room, so I figure she just has a poopy diaper and needs to be changed. I flip on the light and...
I yell her full name and see her drop it. It's on her hands, under her nails, in her bed, on her pillow, in her blankets, and (horror upon horrors) in her lips. She had even managed to toss a little into our bed right behind S.O.
For a split second, my brain shut down. When it clicked back on, it was like in autopilot. It picked up the poop out of our bed so S.O didn't roll over into it, pulled everything out of the playpen, pulled her out of the playpen, stripped off her dirty diaper, still chalk-full of ammunition, and put her in the bath tub. It scrubbed everything till it was squeaky clean, dried her off, re-diapered and clothed her, scrubbed the bottom of the playpen out, and put her back in it, sans blankets and pillow (because they're all dirty now!), turned off the light, sat back down on the futon, put my headphones back on, and took me here. And now, after coming fully out of autopilot, I realize that I have written a 6 paragraphed status about my daughter's poop.
*** In conclusion, (and to sum up for those who skipped down) it is now 3 AM. Guess what just happened. My 2-year-old daughter pulled poop out of her diaper, made a giant mess of it, and even stuck some in her mouth. I think I'm ready to call it a day now.