Super Villains in Footie Pajamas

Well, I must start by saying that last night was a doozie! I love having a toddler, she is pretty much the coolest, and I could go on and on about all of the great things about her. Sadly, this post is a short stroll on the dark side of parenting. We have had such a good sleeper in Isabella. She slept through the night at such an early age as a baby and has always been pretty great about naps. Thank God for the naps! Lately however, Isabella has turned into a super villain whose method of operation is to rob people of precious, vital sleep.  Her list of crimes against humanity include fighting through with no nap, going to sleep at 2:00 am, throwing fits at bed time, sleeping in too late, getting up at 5:45 am, waking up multiple times each night, talking and bouncing through the night hours at a time, and more! But nothing compares to the outrageous events of last night. Let's begin....

So we started off by giving her a bath and getting her all clean and sweet smelling (don't you love that sweet smell of youth and baby shampoo?)  The we put her in her pajamas. This is where we made our first mistake, because we put her in two piece pajamas. We then cuddled in bed together and she just kept talking and moaning, and laughing. It was so adorable, until about 2:00 am, and then it began to feel like torture of the strangest variety. Blake fell asleep next to her only to be repeatedly kicked in the back by a toddler. She also resorted to hair pulling, and yelling.... daddy was not amused. Finally at about 2:30 we put her in her crib. She just kept talking and bouncing, but Blake and I fell into a coma state of sleep to the sounds of toddler mischief.....

I awoke at 4:00 am to the sounds of a screaming toddler. It took me a minute to rouse Blake to go and check on her (tell me I am not the only mom that makes dad do the dirty work sometimes.) Blake goes in there, and then I hear the swearing through the baby monitor. At this point I drag myself out of bed, walk down the hall, and I only get a few feet before I hear the screaming baby, and smell the poop! Blake is on the floor trying to change Isabella's diaper. I walk in and she is mid tantrum with her hands caked in poop. Blake says "It's everywhere!" At this point I survey the scene, and sure enough there it is. Poop! Poop on the crib, poop on the bunnies, poop on the blankets, poop on the sheets, the baby, and well, you get the point. There was a poopsplosion in the nursery. So we start the second bath of the night at 4:05 am. I get the poop off of the baby then let dad take over bath time and start stripping everything off of the bed, and cloroxing everything she has touched. While I don't love the smell of bleach, it is a better choice then poo. I threw everything in the wash, and then Blake put me to bed, and stayed up with the baby. (That is love!) I just can not understand where this came from. She has never been one to play with poo. Why at 4:00 am does it suddenly seem like a valid option?

It is 11:30 am, and I went to get her up at 9:30 this morning. She was awake when I went to get her out. She has done nothing but whine and throw fits all morning. When does it sleep?! I love her so much. Pray we all get some sleep tonight. Oh, and it is footie pajamas from here to eternity as far as I'm concerned.