All Sound, No Fury

That's how we used to describe Morgan's "blowouts." She would make these horrendous firecracker noises, sometimes off and on for a minute, during which Erik and I would stare at each other in awe and a bit of fear. Tentatively the diaper was opened, only to find a smallish little doodle that in no way looked like it sounded. While we were always relieved to find everything orderly and contained, there was a little disappointment as well that the excitement wasn't warranted. Now, however, the contents of her diaper are starting to equal her sound effects. This is the second time today that she has overflowed her capacious diaper and spread a mustard stain across the back of her outfit. The second time, she was lying on my lap, and I only just avoided being splattered (ah, that telltale warmth...). There's nothing else to be done but plop them in the tub. Then, of course, as soon as she was bathed, clothed, and asleep, she vomited all over, somehow without waking. I was so disgusted that I just left her to sleep in her mess (after dabbing her off, of course). It all seems so counterintuitive sometimes...spending that much effort to feed her, only to have it come back at me and on me. I'm seriously thinking of plastic pants and permanent bibs.