What's that on your bottom, ma'am?

Okay, so nobody really asked me this. But they could've. And probably should've.

Today, Camden and I ventured out with my mom into the slushy leftovers of our snowstorm in search of a Miracle Blanket. I've read about these blankets on other blogs and after doing a little independent research, decided I must own one. Like, right this very second.

You see, I have to swaddle Camden every night. If I don't, he will sleep no more than one or two hours. Without the tight confines of his swaddling blanket, his little arms flail around everywhere and he often startles himself awake. I've swaddled him with basically no problem since birth. However, lately, as he's grown bigger and subsequently stronger, he's decided that it's his mission to bust out of his swaddling blanket. And, judging by the noises he makes at night while trying to do so, you would think it takes super-human strength to accomplish this mission. Last night, after listening to him groan and struggle to free his arms for an hour, I decided to set him free. And for one glorious moment, he enjoyed having his arms out, as he stretched them high above his head. And then, thirty seconds later, he startled himself and started crying, reminding me and himself why the swaddle is not optional at night.

So, off we went to Target and Wal-Mart in search of this blanket that, if you believe the user reviews, lives up to its name by helping babies to sleep longer stretches at night. This is because it's softer, more comfortable, and doesn't allow the child to "break free"-- the art that Camden has all but mastered.

On our way to Wal-Mart (which is my nemesis, by the way), we made a pit-stop at Starbucks. Mom ran in to grab us some coffee while I nursed Camden in the car. And then it happened. One loud squirt. Then another, and another. I knew what was coming, so I lifted him up and checked his back. Just as I suspected, there was poop running up it. I quickly cleaned him up and we continued on our quest to find the Miracle Blanket.

I walked through Wal-Mart and was disappointed to find that they didn't carry the blanket. I hurried back to my Mom's car, where she waited with Camden. And then I saw it: mustard-yellow poop on the car seat where I had been sitting. And I knew what that meant: if there was baby poop on my seat, surely there was baby poop on my butt. I did a quick spin for my mom so she could verify that I had, in fact, just walked through Wal-Mart with mustard colored poop on the seat of my jeans. Classy.

After our failed attempt to find the Miracle Blanket, my mom ordered it from Amazon. It should arrive tomorrow. I will let you know if it does, in fact, work miracles. Stay tuned.