This may be too much info…

Yesterday, I had one of those days that reading a parenting book could not have prepared me for.

I had the worst diarrhea I've ever had in my whole life. I don't know what I ate to make my digestive tract so angry at me, but it was the kind of "feel the rumble in your tummy, stop what you are doing and RUN" kind of diarrhea.

But what do you do with your 3-month-old when you have to drop everything and run?

Well, luckily the first couple times it happened, she was happily playing under her baby gym in the living room, so I just left her there and ran. I'm not sure she even noticed I was gone.

But the third time it happened, poor Gracie was snuggled into my lap enjoying her second breakfast when Mommy had to get up and run. I grabbed the bouncy seat on my way to the bathroom, put her in it in front of me on the floor, and stuck the bottle in her mouth. She had this absolutely shell-shocked look on her face like "what just happened?" but my little trooper just kept on eating. Until yesterday, I had been absolutely heartsick that I had to give up breastfeeding; but it was decidedly handy to be able to feed her while I sat on the toilet because I tell you, I had to do that a couple more times before the day was done.

By early afternoon I had the bouncy seat staying in the small downstairs bathroom, an extra towel on the floor on top of the bath mat in the upstairs bathroom, and a variety of toys with which to keep my Gracie entertained in both. I sang songs, read her books, and tickled her tummy with my feet, all while sitting on the toilet. That worked for most of the day -- in fact, she seemed to be rather interested in these new rooms that she hadn't spent much time in before.

But boy, when she decided she really, really didn't want to be in that stinky room with me ANYMORE, things got ugly. How do you placate a baby who wants to be picked up when you really don't think it's a good idea to get off the toilet? Poor Gracie was just SCREAMING on the bathroom floor, her chubby arms stretched out towards me, tears streaming down her little face.

So why didn't you just take some Pepto-Bismol or something, you ask? Well, we were out. Completely out. No Pepto, no Tums, no Rolaids. Nothing. Apparently I cleaned us out while pregnant and have not needed them since. So I spent a good long time wondering how I would ever be able to pack this kid up, put her in the car, and get somewhere to buy some medicine without desperately needing to go in the meantime.

Luckily by late afternoon, I appeared to be, um, thoroughly cleaned out, so to speak, and no longer needed the medicine. And though awful, the one screaming incident was pretty brief, and she got over it quickly. But I'm never, ever eating whatever that spicy dish from the chinese food restaurant was ever, ever again.