There's a Ring of Debris Around Uranus (Orig. posted 7/25/2008, when E was 2)

I scratched my baby girl's bottom last night. No. Not the cheek. Not the outerlying cheekal regions. Not even the innerlying cheekal regions. THE HOLE ITSELF. What can I say? I was bored.

Recently we've had ever-lengthening sessions of back scratching; she's very demanding, awaking in an instant from almost-sleepage if I dare remove my nails from her back a second too soon. I'm pretty much willing to do anything possible to get her to go to or stay asleep, so I acquiesce. She's been a terror the past few weeks so it's like walking on screaming eggshells, but she was actually bearable at the doctor's office yesterday and after her new antihistamine, kind of ready to go to sleep for once last night. Normally when I scratch her back, she's all "datch my back. DATCH MY BACK, MAMA. datch my ba-a-ack." Sometimes she'll pop up, review which arm I'm using to datch and select: "use DAT one." So I switch and use dat one. This can go on for an HOUR. Rarely she'll ask Daddy to put her to sleep or back to sleep and he's back in 5 minutes. HOW? "I just don't scratch her back." WTF?! How can you deny that angelpants? How are you not scared of her? "I just lie down on the floor next to her bed and she falls asleep." WTF ever.

So yesterday afternoon she had a major poop IN THE POTTY LIKE A BIG GIRL and we made sure to extra clean the "area" while she was in the bath. The eczema's always been a problem and the pediatrician recommends using only water. Usually we just wash her hair with organic baby shampoo that's also infused with flecks of gold and the skin cells of angels apparently because it's $9 a bottle, but after major poopage we go deep. As soon as she pops out of the bathtub her tiny hand goes straight into her butt crack. If I had a dollar for every time I yanked her hand out of her bottom and said "get your hand out of your bottom, please" I'd be napping right now. Given just about any circumstances, I'd choose napping. On the 11.7-ft walk to her bedroom, she scratches about 14 more times and fights, fights, fights putting on her diaper. Finally she leaps onto her tiny toddler bed onto her belly and pitifully wails at me: "datch my bobbum, Mama! datch!" Mama rushes to datch her bobbum, on the cheeks. "NOOOOOoooo, IN IT, IN MAH BOBBUM!" I venture further, hoping "in" vs. "exact target" will suffice. At this, she grabs my finger, pokes it IN IT and makes me datch.

They say it happens when you first lay eyes on your child or the way you feel when your baby gets sick for the first time. But I think it truly  happened last night. I am officially a Mommy.