Today was going great...A seemed to have bounced back from her stuffy nose and we were off on our daily adventures. After a quick trip to see Gigi, we headed to Stroller Strides for our workout then a quick spin around the mall to return some items before rushing over to the new library to check out story time and the kids area. A was in a great mood, sitting relatively still for the story lady, and then running all around with E and her other buddy, Avery.
After a yummy lunch, we headed home for nap time with high hopes of a nice long nap...and that my friends is where it all started to go downhill. We did our regular nap-time routine, changed the diaper, a quick wipe down, and a book, before I snuggled her into her crib to doze off for a few hours. After about 45 minutes of talking to her animals and jumping up and down, A finally settled into her nap. One hour later though she was up crying, so I ran in assuming she had a poopie diaper and needed a quick change before she would fall back asleep. Most of the time she poops on the potty, but if she does it in her sleep it wakes her up and she need to get changed before she will go back down...hey, I told you the kid doesn't like being dirty.
Anyway, where was I, oh yes, so I ran in to change her diaper, which was clean, so I asked her if she needed to sit on the potty...to which she replied with a sleepy head nod and a paci muffled answer, yes. So I picked her up off her change pad and carried a sleepy little girl into the bathroom.
Moments later, as she is slumped on the potty pushing out a poopie, she yawns...and as if in slow motion her paci falls from her mouth, bounces off her leg, hits the potty seat, and, splash, lands in the potty. I slowly lift my eyes away from the floating paci and look at A. I am met with a look of complete shock, seconds before she erupts in full blown hysterical crying. I lift her sobbing body off the potty and watch her tears plopping in the bowl as she stares at her paci. Then I panic, as she reaches for it and I flush it away...
A few "new" and "special" pacis later still would not calm her down, so we rocked and snuggled for the next hour, as I could feel her body slowly relaxing.
A few hours later, when Daddy got home, she ran up to him saying "paci, paci" so assuming she was ready to relive the experience I told daddy what had happened...and let's just say she was nowhere near ready to talk about it yet, since it set her off into another fit of tears.
We finally got her calmed down and I pulled an old paci out of the kitchen drawer, claiming "mommy, had rescued her paci from the toilet". This seemed to work pretty well, but I will let you know the impact of my rash flushing when we are sitting in therapy in a few years...