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.


Tooz said…
Poor you. Been there, done that. The only thing that makes this case better than some is that it happened at home, where you had access to clean clothes for both you and little poopy pants.
Suze said…
No kidding, Tooz! I was on campus earlier today and it truly would have been a disaster if this had happened there.
Tooz said…
We took Baby Everett out to eat once, and he did a similar number before we had ordered. We went home, changed home, and came back--fortunately it was here in town.
Mrs. Ann said…
sometimes that happens at daycare. if you ever decide to put your child into daycare, please try the prune juice at home over the weekend first before you try it at school.

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)
Steph said…
I was keeping an eye on Zoe this past weekend and she was diaperless due to having developed diaper rash on the trip up here, and I happened to notice a little puddle of pee and poo on the floor underneath her. No biggie--I wiped it up--my cats have done way worse. Then she started crying and staggering towards me and I looked down and saw that poo was sprayed all over her legs and feet and covering the back of her dress, and it was kind of greenish, and smelled fouler than I thought baby poo could possibly smell. But then I just handed her off to her mother, so no one really has to pity me. ;)
Animal said…
Oh, Suze! I cracked up 'til I was teary-eyed. Then I remembered that MY baby hasn't even been born yet...and then I cried some more, thinking about what's to come.

Good stuff. :-)
My favorite poo memory is when Jamie was ill as a wee babe and had to be (briefly) hospitalized. There was this one nurse who was in high school with me who was just a total snot in school, and hadn't changed too much in her professional life, either. So, Jamie was itty bitty baby, screaming his head off, freezing cold, not feeling good at all, and this nurse pulls all my son's clothes off and starts manhandling him with freezing cold hands, to get him turned over so she can take his temperature rectally. She lubed up the thermometer and stuck it in his butt, at which point a high-powered stream of diarrhea shoots out and covers the front of the nurse's scrubs, one cheek and some of her hair. That was when I realized that there is justice in the world, after all. I still laugh whenever I think of the look on her face! LOL!
Becca said…
LOL! I wish I knew who that was!

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.
pamigelsrud said…
By the way, I have had to do a lot of cleaning up of doggy diarreah lately, so I can appreciate where you're coming from. Something tells me cleaning up poop would be better if it was a) human poop and b) poop from your own child. But, maybe I'm wrong about that. I'm not too fond of cleaning up poop, but I have to say I minded it less when it was my own cats. Dog poop is GROSS.

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