Tag Archives: poop

Parenting Fail #2351

Tonight, we had some friends over for dinner. Hubby had been working on a bolognese all afternoon, and we were all really excited. As usual with tomato-based sauces for dinner, we took the kids clothes off before they got their food. (Anyone else try to save laundry this way?)

When everyone was finishing up, we started taking dishes to the sink, cleaning up a bit, and sipping the last sips of our wine. I look over at J, still in his high chair. His hands are hidden behind him, and he says, “Poop!”

My friend Andrea and I look at each other. Did he just say “poop”? I get up, and realize his hands are behind him, in his diaper. I look at his hands. There’s a questionable substance. In my head, I’m going back and forth: Meat from the sauce? Poop? I can’t tell. Should I smell it? Oh gosh, I don’t want to deal with it if it’s poop. Do I just dump him in the tub? Out loud, I say, “Oh no. Please don’t be poop. Oh God… I think it’s poop! RYAN!”

You guys, praise the Lord for husbands who save the day. Hubby saves mine almost daily, but this takes the cake (at least this week). He scooped J up and took care of the poop problem. What a guy.

Moral of the story: If I hadn’t taken his clothes off, he probably wouldn’t have been able to touch it. Blerg.

Anyone else have a recent poop story to share? I know we all have them sometimes. PLEASE tell me I’m not the only one!

No Pull-Ups During Naps: Parenting Fail #397

Today, my daughter took a nap. Unremarkable, right? She took a nap. No big deal. But let me back up.

We’re in the throes of potty training. EK’s wearing big girl panties about half the time, and a pull-up or diaper the other half. She’s not sleeping in underwear yet, of course, so for today’s nap, Daddy didn’t find any diapers in her room (you know, because she’s only wearing them half the time, and we’ve only just moved her down to her new room), and put her in a pull-up. Most of the time, this wouldn’t present a problem; it holds pee fairly well and we change her directly after her nap every time. But today, when she woke up and came upstairs, she had a massively gross pull-up, which had gotten on her pants a bit, so Daddy cleaned her up, and let her run pantsless while I went downstairs to retrieve the underwear. (And then he ran away to “help his dad with something.” Yeah right, Daddy. You must’ve known what was coming…)

When I got to her room, I noticed two things: 1. There were wipes all over her bed. 2. It smelled awful. These are two bad things, that when put together, are truly terrible. The massively dirty pull-up had also caused a problem in the bed, which EK had so graciously tried to clean up before she came upstairs. Mess. Was. Everywhere. Every single item on her bed needed to go straight into the washing machine on the “hot” cycle. Y’all, I am not kidding. My heart started beating faster as I tried to not smell anything.

I bundled the wipes up (including the ones spread all over a book, which is now soggy and half-ruined) and threw them in the trash can, and started stripping the bed. I carried several loads of pillows, sheets and the waterproof (thank God) mattress cover to the laundry room (thank God we have a laundry room now! Ahhh!) to start the process of cleaning up. I sprayed everything with stain remover, switched the laundry over (because of course, something was already in the washer AND in the dryer) and put in the first load. Y’all, how did it happen?!

I know how it happened.

My kids sleep like tornadoes. And when they finally do find a resting place for the majority of a sleeping session, it’s typically a strange one. For instance, EK likes to sprawl across all her pillows, instead of have her head on a pillow and her legs down. She sleeps up against the headboard of the bed 90% of the time. Hence poop on the pillows. (Sorry. You should’ve known there might be a gross detail or two.)

Back to the clean up… Now my pantsless daughter is upstairs, so I call her downstairs, just to get her side of the story.

Me: Did you get poop on the book?
EK: No.
Me: Did you get poop on the pillows that are on the floor?
EK: No.
Me: Did you sit down before you came upstairs?
EK: …..

And now I’m freaking out about the BRAND NEW CARPET.

Trying to keep my cool, I remember she’s still pantsless. I start to help her with her underwear, and notice she doesn’t seem to have been cleaned up well. Then, I notice there’s a little poop on the inside of her shirt. “Oh well,”  I think. “Daddy must not have noticed it.” So I take her shirt off, and now I see the poop on her back. I start to clean it off, and a thought pops in my head. “If Daddy didn’t know all this had happened down here, I’m sure he didn’t wipe her hands off. HE DIDN’T WIPE HER HANDS OFF!” And then, I start freaking out about how many things she’s touched since the initial accident, and where all the poop might be and how I’m going to find it/clean it off, and then I’m all, “Screw it. It’s bath time.” J just happens to be lurking around the corner, trying to decipher and smell and the ruckus, so I toss him in, too. Clean babies, right? Right. Babies who are never wearing pull-ups during naptime ever again.