With children there are good days and bad days. All of them precious in their own ways. However, then comes the day where I very nearly lost my mind. The day my youngest, Wesley, removed his diaper and pooed everywhere but the diaper. EVERYWHERE.
It was smeared all over himself and on his fingers and in his mouth. (Yes, you read that correctly. He gave it a taste!) He came to me, pointing his little poo covered finger in my face while crying.
I whisked him away into the bathroom and stood him in the tub. I had to give him a pre-rinse prior to an actual bath to get all of the poo chunks off of him. Dear God, there was so much poo.
I got his bath started finally after washing away the poo. At this point I was crying and laughing at the same time. Wesley was looking at me puzzled. Surely mommy had lost her mind. (Yeah kid, I did. It was somewhere amidst the massive amounts of poo running down the drain.)
Luckily my middle child Max came walking in and watched dear Wesley while I sought out the diaper. I found it in the middle of the play room. It was bone dry and completely poo free. He had even folded back up nicely. (What kid does that? It seemed almost a smug thing to do.) Sitting beside the diaper was a pile of poo. A big pile of poo. (How on earth can this much poo come from such a tiny kid?!) I scanned the toy covered floor for any other surprises. I found two more neat piles and one more not so neat pile. This pile had been used to paint numerous toys and I assume it was the one he used to paint himself with.
I cleaned up the poo piles, threw the toys in the washing machine, gathered my little angel from the tub and put his diaper back on and this time put pajamas on the kid. He was going to keep this diaper on. I then poured a drink and sat down on the couch to gather myself. Not five minutes later Wesley walked up to me like this:
(Yes, that is poo on his nose). I had missed some poo obviously. But where was it?! I cleaned his face and his ankle as there was poo smeared there as well. (Why?! Why was this happening?!) I scooped him up and told him to show mommy where the poo was. As if he would answer and show me. No. I got the blank big eyed stare with that huge grin.
By this point I was sobbing and yelling, "Where is the damn poo?! Where?!". I was stumbling over toys and scanning every bit of the floor, walking as if in a mine field. Each step expecting to feel a squish. Nothing. I could find no more poo. Where had he put it, smeared it, stashed it? Where oh were was the poo? I was at my wits end. I couldn't give up though. Just knowing there was poo someone in the room, poo that Wesley would inevitably play in again, made me frantic. I could smell poo but could not pinpoint just where. Then I saw it. Little poo streaks all over the glass on the entertainment center. All over it. I was relieved. Glass is so much easier to clean than carpet.
After all was cleaned I once more plopped onto the couch exhausted. Then Wesley crawled up and onto my lap. He hugged me and leaned in for a kiss. A kiss I denied. The vision of his little poo covered mouth was still fresh in my mind. No kid, no kiss tonight. But I'll hug you and love you none the less