Mother of the Year

*Warning I will be descriptive.*

Last night when I was getting Keira to bed, while also convincing the older two boys not to tackle in the house and telling them to brush their teeth and get in their jammies, all while talking over the Red Sox game that was turned up too loud but I couldn't find the remote to turn it down, oh and while cooking rice and veggies while Nathan was outside grilling, AND while calling for Brody, who escapes upstairs to climb on top of the boys bunk bed every chance he gets, so while two of my sixteen arms were working on the changing the baby's diaper my eyes noticed her bum looked a tad red, so it told the other parts of my brain who were focused on the previously mentioned stuff, and told my other sets of eyes that they all had to focus on Keira's butt and examine it to see if it was the start of a diaper rash. The consensus of my mind was it looked okay, but it wouldn't hurt to putt some diaper rash ointment on it just to play it safe. All in agreement, say "I" and my mind broke, my other eyes, started searching for the boys, checking on the time, trying to decide how much longer for the food, etc. My girlfriends had given me a package of butt paste, that I hadn't needed yet, so I opened the package, distracted by the cute logo (ingenious marketing idea), because when you are able to be a mother and separate your mind like this, you are easily distracted. I put a tiny bit on, put her diaper on and then STOP. What is that NOISE? What is THAT? All senses are now focused on my baby girl who is SHRIEKING and flailing her arms, in a clearly pained version of trying to flap her wings and fly away. I picked her up and she is red faced, tears flowing, stiff as a board, besides her horrible flying attempt, and when she is able to get sound out (yes at times crying so hard that no sound came out... you know that cry) it was a scream. WHAT HAPPENED?!?!
Then my mind focused. Butt Paste. Damn you Butt Paste. All of my contributing mind parts were talking at once, "Maybe you got some in her OTHER area", "Maybe it migrated when you putt the diaper on", "Maybe she's not a boy and you should have thought of this as a possibility!"
Ugh.
I took her diaper off, she seemed to be ten shades redder than before. Crap. I tried using a wipe to get it off. Well, lets just say this sent her into an even more frantic tirade than before, and had I known that was EVEN POSSIBLE I would have gone another route. The only thing that calmed her down was holding a warm washcloth like a diaper on her and rocking her.
Yes, mother of the year right here.