Yesterday, I was sitting at my computer working while Max was supposed to be sleeping. But he just kept talking and talking and eventually got pretty fussy and I decided that since this was out of character I would go check on him and maybe even rock him for a bit.
Side note: Max is an all-star pooper- he poops in the morning and mid-day. It's always just the right amount and it's like clock work. We've never had messes or explosions or any of that nonsense. Our only "event" is when he was 6 days old and I changed his diaper, lifted back his legs, and the runny newborn poop shot out like a water hose. My mother-in-law rushed in to save the day and had the floor, the changing table, and his crib (which all got hit by the spew) cleaned before I had even finished changing Max.
Do you see where this might be going?
So back to yesterday... I scooped him out of his bed and noticed this:
[caption id="attachment_525" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="The clue that something was amiss"][/caption]
And I thought to myself, well that's funny, and I shifted Max to my other hip to check it out a little closer... and when I did, my hand was gooey. Why yes, I did have poop ALL over my hand.
Ok, because I am immature and inexperienced, I panicked. I had NO idea what to do. I didn't want to put him down anywhere, but I didn't want to hold him either-- so I toted him by his arm pits, while trying to pull his clothes off him, to the bath tub. He was laughing hysterically and thought this was a game.
No Max, this is not a game, this is a CRISIS!
[caption id="attachment_526" align="aligncenter" width="225" caption="So proud!"][/caption]
Once I finally got him undressed, I was stumped once again. Do make him a bath because that means he'd be splashing IN his poop. But how else do I get him clean? And what about his outfit that has poop all over the inside and the outside?
[caption id="attachment_527" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Yes, that is what you think it is..."][/caption]
At this point I remember a friend's kid who got really sick- like a horrible virus that lasted for days-- because he somehow got feces in his mouth. So I wiped him down with baby wipes, then put him in the tube and wash him off. I get out a new towel, wrap him up and lay him on the floor while I run to his room to get hand sanitizer so that I can rub it all over his body. No, I don't usually rub hand sanitizer all over my baby, but I could think of nothing else, short of steaming hot water and clorox to ease my mind about the nastiness.
Apparently, while I'm grabbing the bottle, he pees all over the rug that he was laying on because when I got back and sat down to sanitize the baby, I got pee all over my butt. Yes, I managed to sit right on his pee-puddle.
[caption id="attachment_528" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Clean baby/ Murky water = disgusting!"][/caption]
After sanitizing the baby and changing my shorts, I rinsed out his clothes-- there were chunks and a severe gag reflex involved in this part of the crisis. Then I headed to his room- aka The Disaster Zone. I removed his bumper, his sheets and his mattress pad, wiped down the whole bed with lysol disinfecting spray, and then fixed everything back up.
Remnants of the crisis:
[caption id="attachment_530" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="The Disaster Zone"][/caption]
[caption id="attachment_529" align="aligncenter" width="225" caption="The Bathroom"][/caption]
Meanwhile, Max leisurely enjoyed his afternoon bottle.
[caption id="attachment_531" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption=""What's the problem, Mom?""][/caption]
Just that morning I had had an email conversation with my mom about how Max was old enough to necessitate a stuffed animal or two in his crib, as he does lay in there and talk for about 10 minutes before each nap. So of course he also pooped on his new friends, lion and dog. They, too, were added to the laundry.
So let's summarize: Max exploded and I had to wash him, sanitize him, wash the bathtub, disinfect the bathtub, launder the towels, the rugs, his clothes, and everything he touched, change the sheets and mattress pad on his bed, and then clorox his whole room.
I took a picture of myself when it was all over, because I was sweaty and nasty and I wanted to use it as blackmail when Max gets old enough to be embarassed by this- but the picture was much too horrible to even acknowledge it's existence. So the story in itself will have to be enough.
Are you grossed out? I am! But this is blog-worthy because I must make note of this so that when Max thinks he's too cool for me and he wants me to leave him alone and drop him off at the corner because I embarrass him, etc... I'll be able to show him all the many things I went through for him and he'll have to love me.
I wish I was spiritual enough to have a good attitude about it while it was happening- I mean Jesus loves us and we make way bigger messes- but as soon as I got pooh on my hands, it was all downhill. Parenting does indeed build character, and a tough stomach!