Nothing like it
There's nothing like sitting at the dinner table and noticing your kid is taking a huge crap in his pants.
There's nothing like taking your kid to the bathroom to change his diaper and realizing it is not contained within the diaper cover.
There's nothing like realizing this by looking down at your own shirt and seeing baby poo smeared all over the front.
There's nothing like changing that diaper and accidentally flinging poo across the bathroom and onto the wall just by unsnapping the crotch of his onesie.
There's nothing like trying to remove an article of clothing covered in poo from a kid without also covering him in it.
There's nothing like taking off your own shirt to give your kid a bath because your own shirt isn't much cleaner than the diaper you just removed from his bum.
There's nothing like being elbow-deep in the poop bucket scrubbing clean the 39485729th poopy diaper/diaper cover/shirt of the day and realizing your back really, really itches.
Parenting? Oh, yes. I love every single stinking minute of it.
There's nothing like taking your kid to the bathroom to change his diaper and realizing it is not contained within the diaper cover.
There's nothing like realizing this by looking down at your own shirt and seeing baby poo smeared all over the front.
There's nothing like changing that diaper and accidentally flinging poo across the bathroom and onto the wall just by unsnapping the crotch of his onesie.
There's nothing like trying to remove an article of clothing covered in poo from a kid without also covering him in it.
There's nothing like taking off your own shirt to give your kid a bath because your own shirt isn't much cleaner than the diaper you just removed from his bum.
There's nothing like being elbow-deep in the poop bucket scrubbing clean the 39485729th poopy diaper/diaper cover/shirt of the day and realizing your back really, really itches.
Parenting? Oh, yes. I love every single stinking minute of it.
Comments
one parent brings his son to school every morning without having changed his diaper, and it looks like he has about three tennis balls inside his clothes--then when you unload it, you realize that, no, it's last night's supper. apparently they feed him corn often.
one morning i changed a traveling poo and it took quite a bit of time to locate all of it and make sure it was all gone. finally, i had washed my hands and wiped him from head to toe, disposed of the mess, and was quite satisfied with myself for having finished it all. i checked my watch to see how long it had taken me, and there was the remnant. good thing my watch was waterproof. (and bleachwater proof)
Good stuff. :-)
CJ is almost 2 1/2, and just a couple days ago when I picked him up from daycare, he was in his backup clothes and his outfit that morning was in a plastic grocery bag. I don't know how he does it, but he manages it to send up his back and under his shirt! Yesterday, we picked him up right after he had been changed, and within that two minutes he'd pooped again. I had fun changing him on the table in the new daycare room without knowing where the cleaner and everything was. We figured it out.
A friend of mine told me before I had CJ that one time, her son pooped in his crib during the night and when she went in that morning, not knowing what had happened, she discovered he had used it to paint all over the wall.
I've been expecting that one, but not yet.
One last poo story before I go--since Tooz knows how I loves my poo--Dad used to laugh about the time we went to PA when I was almost three. My potty chair was in the very back of the station wagon, I was whining I had to poo, and the next rest area was about 10 miles away. After I went a few moments without whining, Dad looked in the rear view mirror to discover I had unbuckled myself from my carseat, climbed over the bench seat and the luggage, and was pulling my pants down to use my potty chair, "mooning the whole Turnpike!", as he used to put it.