We've been dealing with a monster case of diaper rash this weekend. By monster, I mean, nasty little blisters that might be some other sort of yeast infection or something. Almost every diaper- five out of seven today- was dirty, so Katie didn't get a reprieve from having her hiny wiped. By this afternoon, I started thinking it may be related to her diapers: they're an off brand, and may not be so, well, airy. We ran to the grocery store and I got a brand of Pampers recommended on some web site and some senstive skin wipies. We'll see if this helps.
This comes during a three-day stretch that Eric is gone in Dallas for some hob-nob opportunity with his soon-to-be boss. While he's been sleeping in a super-swank hotel, I've been cleaning up after endless poopy diapers and restraining Katie's head to administer antibiotic eye drops because she's also getting over a bad case of conjunctivitis...so Eric will have doctor duty tomorrow should the little blisters not clear up overnight. We even tried going sans diaper a few times today. The first time, Katie knew something was different and kept lifting up her shirt while prancing around the house. I got a few pictures because her little rear end just peeked out beneath her t-shirt. Tonight, though, after tiredness was compounded with thirst and a seriously hurtin' hiny, she stood in front of Eric, no diaper, taking banana slices from him, letting it all air out... and peed on the floor...I only noticed when I felt a sprinkle on my foot.
And now the cute stuff: my little drama queen, as adorable as she is, hates many a thing these days. She doesn't like to eat much more than bananas ("nanas"), cookies, or crackers (she can sorta say both of those) and milk. She hates doctors- seriously, when the doc physically moved away from the computer Tuesday and towards her, she started crying hysterically. She hates stethoscopes, ear-looky-thingys, all things doctor's office, except walking around it and taking books off the shelves. If we start to walk into her room together, she starts to squirm and complain and if we put her on her changing table...I guess, in short, she loves creating mayhem, but not too much on the order side of things. She loves, loves, loves to push things around (I guess, on many levels) and can spend all day rotating between pushing her little stroller, to pushing her high chair, to pushing her train, to a scrap of paper or magnet from the fridge...Oh- and did I mention, tantrums? Like the one she's throwing this very minute because I took my phone away that she was gleefully dialing someone- Lord knows who- on? And yes, generally, the tantrums are terribly cute- especially the times she gets so mad she shakes her fists at us. It's work to keep a straight face.
But, still, she's my angel. Really. And everytime we say "no" and she corrects herself, we say, "Good Girl!" Her vocabulary goes in stops and starts- we seem to be in a "dog-gy" rut at the moment- but the other day, she started say "good girl" back to us. Today, when we'd finish an especially tedious diaper change, she says, "Good girl" to me, to which I say, "Yes, you are!" Of course, it sounds more similar to "Goo Ghoul" or "Google"... but I know what she means.
Okay- off to stem this tantrum and stir the green curry chicken...
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