It actually started at work, when one of my little kiddo's grabbed some freshly pressed breast milk and tried to drink it.  It was still in the booby cup container-cause I'd forgotten to bring a cap and spilled out all over my desk.  I could've cried-you work so hard for just a little bit and there it sat-staining my billing sheets.

But today was the day of Multiple body fluids.   The biscuit's been sick with an ear infection and is on day 2 of Antibiotics.  After three days of sad whining-I finally got a few smiles out of him.  It's hard to watch a little one who's sick.  The first odd thing I noted was while I was feeding him this morning-it was like the milk was going in his mouth and then little drops were coming out of his nose.  Effed up-I know.

By the afternoon, it almost seemed like I was the unsuspecting heroine in some type of horror film.  The first was my fault.  Have you ever tried to cut baby nails?  It's pretty tricky.  Inevitably I get ****y half way through and the practically cut off Cheddar's finger.  Then I curse myself and wonder if I could just bring him into the nail salon to get his nails done.  Today was no different-and I ended up gouging out part of his index finger.  So I changed his outfit and mine since there were tiny little blood stains on both.

Brought him downstairs and settled him into the bouncer.  About five minutes later he is upset again and when I pick him up-it's like he jumped into a pool (a pool of pee) with his clothing on.  He is W  E  T like I've never seen before.

You know the part in the horror movie-when they start to find the other bodies?  Well I grab my little one and head up the stairs to find a pile of doggie poo right in front of the baby gate.  WTF.  Holding onto a slippery pee soaked baby -I manage to jump over the poop and hurry to change the baby.

I find a cute little sleeper with rhino's for feet and change him into it.  Cheddar is now happy and rewards me with an adorable little baby smile.  I pick him up and as we are walking down the hall.  He looks up and me and barf's all over me.  It's in my hair, dripping down the arm and a big pool of it in the middle of the floor.  

Back over to the nursery where I change him into an old onsie and tell myself it's good for him to play with his toes because all the matching socks are in the laundry.

Settle the baby down for some tummy time and return to find a very satisfied doggie lapping up the last of the baby vomit.