So my daughter's bouncing away in her doorway jumper yesterday. It's one of those Sundays where it seems like a bitch to even get our sorry asses outside. Laundry everywhere, vacuuming, a deadly obstacle course of toys, Jay Jay The Jet Plane on the VCR, and a little blogging. Bryan walks by Stella with a handful of clean sock balls and says, "Did you poop? It smells like poop," but goes about his business.
A few minutes later I'm washing dishes and I hear, "Elise, come here." Bryan's tone suggests I should drop everything and run, even though I'm down to two items in the sink and it drives me crazy not to finish. So I walk into our bedroom, and follow his gaze to Stella, happily bouncing in her doorway jumper between the living room and our bedroom, and the horror unfolds in slo-mo snapshots before my eyes:
1. Poop is flowing down her legs like lava.
2. She's happily, obliviously sliding her feet around in a pizza-pie-sized pond of poo.
3. How the hell are we going to clean up this shit?
4. Thank God this didn't happen when it was just me at home with the kids.
5. In my perma-frazzled state did I forget to put a fresh diaper on her?
6. No. So, I pray. Please, Lord, never again. And yet,
7. I feel inducted into motherhood in a whole new (poo!) way.
So, to work cleaning up we went. Bryan grabbed a towel and wrapped Stella in it. We threw her in the tub. Threw her clothes, the towel, the bouncy seat into the tub, then into the laundry. She was pissed to leave the fun slidey zone. She cried. Hamish stepped in it. I finished bathing Stella while Bryan barricaded Hamish and mopped up the poopy floor. Jesus had mercy on our rugs but the mobile on the floor got hit and we threw it in the garbage. This morning I found a poop schmear on the shower curtain but other than that, you'd never know our apartment was the scene of such heinousness.
6 comments:
yikes!!! looks like the symphony in motion mobile to a poo beating as well. those breastfed baby poops can be horrific - very runny and bountiful. but... be glad it was a sweet smelling breastfed poop compared to a formula fed poop.
xox
I must give credit to Ry for the discovery. I was sitting there in front of Frankie for 10 minutes before he came over, pointed and said "Poop!".
He, of course, went on to play with the jumper after we whisked Frankie away, saying "Look!" and then slipping just a bit in the swamp of poop before I yelled "STOP" which scared him just enough so that he stepped back onto the rug with the poop foot.
Much more fun in retrospect.
ha ha ha HA hoo hee phew.
Wow, that's an amazing picture. Our poopsplosions are rarely so dramatic. We often get notified by yelling from the tub.
glad the cleanup went well.
--Mike from SPP
HA HA! That's too much! Don't poop explosions come at just the right time? ;)
Omg! that looks like something my daugther Olivia did when she was younger only she was on carpet and in her walker. ewww! I like your blog though. come by and check mine out if you would like to.
That is the absoulte funniest story and photo I've ever heard/seen! LOL!
...I'm sure you think it's HIL-arious... right...
Post a Comment