Like a Greased Pig

A snapshot of our house last night...

After dinner, I hustled to get Maren's bath ready, as I had book club. She was happy playing with John while the tub filled, and happy to put almost all of her bath toys into the tub. I did rush the bath a bit, and while washing her hair noticed that her left ear was overflowing with ear wax (this will get graphic and a bit gross). Not only was it overflowing, it had hardened. I tried to get it out with a wet wash cloth (side note - her ear had been excessively waxy and leaky since Sunday, but I hadn't been concerned. Duh.) and she would have none of that, and started screaming as if I was beating her. Fine, I stopped. I called to John to tell him after the bath he'd have to hold her so I could clean out her ear.

I gave her a two minute warning, then a one minute warning, then I drained the tub. Maren laid down and clung to the bumpy mat in the bottom of the tub so that I couldn't pick her up, and screamed. I tried to appease her by saying "you'll get to rub lotion, you like that." After another minute, I scooped her up and forced her into her towel. She is crying and screaming with anger. John comes in to hold her so that I can perform the ear wax-ectomy. It was painful for all three of us. She is twisting, John is holding her, trying not to break her neck, and I'm trying to use my finger nail to pick ear wax out of a small, moving target. Finally, a sort of success. Two green chunks come out. That's not right. I plan to call the pediatrician in the morning.

She finally stops crying and we tell her that she can put lotion on herself. I give her the tube of baby oil gel, trying to hold it to control the flow of the lotion. Too late. She squeezes with all her might and a look of glee on her face, 1/4 cup of baby oil gel is now on her stomach. We stand her up and try to rub it all over her body. She is slippery and gets away from us and is now jumping on the bed. John leaves to get another towel to wipe her down a bit. She is jumping and looking at herself in the mirror and STARTS PEEING ON THE BED. She wants to jump into my arms. I have to go to book club and don't have time to change. I grab the wet bath towel and try to wrap it around her legs.

Finally, she stops peeing. She gets wiped down, again (urine is sterile, right? No need for another bath.) and a new diaper and pajamas are now sticking to her, thanks to the baby oil. She looks up at me, with the face of an angel and says "More teddies, please." Translation - Teddy Grahams. I don't want to give her any since she didn't eat much dinner. But, John is nicer than I am and says "She just had a traumatic ear incident. A few teddies won't hurt."

The guest room looked like a cyclone hit it. The bathroom looked like the Titanic has just gone down. I am more disheveled than usual. Maren is laughing and dancing and eating Teddy Grahams. All is well.