Father knows best

I do not make that statement often when referring to my dearest husband, but last night it was SO true. I arrived home from work to find my baby girl feeling 95% better. Her fever was gone and she was back to her party girl self. Steve let me know that she still had the diarrhea and it did not take long for me to figure that out for myself. Aside from that she was all good. I made her rice cereal for dinner and she ate the whole bowl. She and David played for a while and by 8 pm she was exhausted. I decided that she could have 'a little' milk in her bottle before bed. Steve told me I shouldn't, but I figured 1/2 a bottle would be OK. Well, at 12:30 am, I found out Steve was right. I woke up to him shouting 'Oh Shit' and he meant it. My poor baby girl. She was COVERED in diarrhea. I tried my best to get her clothes off without making a bigger mess - it was almost impossible. I quickly filled the tub with water to wash her down while Steve put the sheets and her blankets in the wash. Just as I was about to put the soap on her, she goes in the tub! I quickly removed her from the bath tub and washed out the tub. She still needed to be cleaned up so Steve helped me shower her down. As Steve was remaking her crib, I got her redressed. She was so tired - along with Steve and I - that we let her sleep with us. We did not want her to crap all over our bed, so we laid a towel under her. She slept like a log and when I left this morning, she was still sleeping with no sign of a mess. It was not too smart of me to give her that milk...I should have listened to the hubs. :sigh: