It started at 4:40, when E woke up and refused to let us put him back down. He was hurting. His canines. Getting him to bed the last several nights has been difficult (multiple bouts of rocking and crying), which is unusual for him. He's also woken up mid-nap a few times and needed Tylenol.
Later yesterday morning (it was a long morning) I scared myself by falling on the stairs. I was carrying a huge basket of laundry, and E was downstairs on the other side of the gate, waiting for me. I fell down a couple of stairs and landed on the landing on my knees and one of my feet jammed into the baseboard. I started sobbing immediately for some reason even though I wasn't seriously hurt. E thought I was laughing, so he started laughing the laugh he does when he wants to be in on the joke but doesn't know what's funny, until I came down the stairs. He stopped laughing as soon as he saw me, and a look of grave concern came over his face. He watched me closely and hugged me. He is so sweet, that one.
After nap we were playing outside when I realized he was poopy, so I changed him on our new changing table downstairs, but then realized the diaper cream was upstairs. He's had a terrible diaper rash that was even bleeding yesterday morning, so I wanted to be sure and put cream on his bum. I put him down to run around naked while I ran upstairs to get the cream. You can probably guess what happened: Came back down the stairs and found him frozen in the kitchen with a huge pile of soft poo on the floor behind him and a puddle of pee on the floor in front of him. He didn't know what was going on or what to do. Up until now he's been completely oblivious to all things potty related, although he did ask me two days ago to take his diaper off so he could sit on his potty. I think he'd seen one of the co-op girls doing this; I don't think he's realized the purpose of it yet. Anyway, yeah, cleaning up a steaming pile of shit from the kitchen floor was a first for me. I'm just glad I succeeded in keeping him from running his vacuum through it. It was a close call, as we both apparently had a lot of cleaning to do.
A bit later, before bedtime, I was checking email before reading to him and he was behind me with an empty bottle of Motrin (which he loves to play with), a half-full bottle (which had the childproof cap on), and his little medicine cup. I swear I don't usually let him have an un-empty bottle, but he was going to bed in a few minutes, and it wasn't worth the battle to keep it from him (I thought). I just didn't think there was any way he could get the cap off. We both pretended to pour and sip the medicine and smack our lips, and then I turned back to my computer. Soon thereafter it dawned on me that he'd gotten very quiet, and then I realized that he'd uttered a gleeful, triumphant sound a few seconds before. I turned around and he was standing there with a giant grin on his face and two empty bottles of Motrin. I looked down and the carpet was covered in purple goo, as was the front of his shirt. It took me a minute to realize that he'd probably swallowed some himself before dumping it. And I'd already given him a teaspoon. I wasn't too worried, to be honest, but I wanted to call Poison Control anyway. They were super nice (and even called back this morning to check in). Turns out he could've swallowed an entire bottle and been fine. Good to know. Needless to say, he slept like a rock last night.
So, those were the day's highlights. Which I really didn't have time to just write out. But oh well.
It wasn't a bad day at all (and we had a great time at the park in the morning), it was just long and . . . eventful.