Archive for July, 2010

Bring on the chocolate…

Posted by KK on Tuesday, 27 July, 2010

If you’ve ever wondered how many footsteps a 19 month old active little boy can take in less than two minutes….I think I have the answer. It’s easy to know when you’re on your hands and knees on hard, bamboo floors with Chlorox wipes scrubbing up every one of those footprints. More on this in a moment…

Let me begin this post by talking for a second about how uncanny it is that nearly every single time I try to stop and eat a meal it gets interrupted. Each day, on average, I probably sit down to eat a meal a full hour after everyone else. That’s because I begin preparing a meal and kids begin eating and then I feed the little ones because most of the things we eat they cannot feed themselves and they have a habit of cramming too much into their mouths the things that they could eat independently thus getting choked so I still end up feeding them the finger foods. So by the time they all finish and I clean up the table it is at least an hour later. Ironically, this is also when little babies like to poop….shortly after a meal.

So today I sat down with my sandwich and iced tea at my computer hoping to upload some photos. I hadn’t taken two bites of my sandwich before hearing “MOM…POOP!!!” So I assumed one of the boys just picked up on the odor but not today….River pointed out to me that there was actual poop on the floor. So I stood up and looked, quickly spotted the little drop of poo, and then began noticing all the little drops, smudges and smears of poop in circles all over the living room & dining room floor. Apparently, a little bit of poo plopped out of little J’s diaper, he stepped in it, and proceeded to carry on as usual running around doing this or that.

So bring about the panic. I hate poop. To me, it represents everything bad in the world. And not only that but it smells like crap, too. I plucked the culprit up and took him into the empty bathtub and sat him in it and handed him a bath toy. I came back out and grabbed the other baby, inspected him, and placed him in a secure place where he couldn’t get into any poo since he passed his inspection. I instructed the three others in the living room not to dare get off the couch lest they end up in a bleach bath and then grounded. I yell down the hall to the remainder of the kids (I have lost count by now) playing Legos in their room that they are hereby quarantined until further notice. I go back to the bathroom, lay the boy down in the still empty tub and give him a “pre-bath” using wipes and then run a bubble bath. While he plays, I go back and check on the living room and make sure no one has left their assigned spot. All is well so I returned to the bathroom, scrubbed the child, got him out, diapered him, dressed him, tossed him into the bed for a nap and returned to the living room. I spent no less than 30 minutes on my hands and knees with a full container of Chlorox wipes scrubbing up now dried poop footprints off the floor, one by one, until it shined.

Incidentally, I am and have always been a largely conservative person when it comes to laundry. If we aren’t leaving the house, my little ones will be running around in nothing but diapers most of the day. In the last couple of months I have learned that if there is any “spillage” out of the diaper, it is less likely to end up on the furniture, or your lap, or any other surface when they have clothes on. Yes, it will end up on the clothes, but that is as far as it will go by the time you smell it. Needless to say, I’ve been clothing them a lot more as of late but apparently fell short today. He was only wearing a t-shirt and a diaper when all this went down. Shame on me.

So back to the footprints. How many do you think a little one can make in under two minutes? About 50. And that’s only with one foot. Today I am thankful for the blessing of hard wood flooring and Chlorox wipes, clumpy poop instead of diarrhea, chocolate, tired little ones who have now been asleep for an hour and 45 minutes and a mom who is never so grossed out that she can’t ultimately return to her sandwich and eat it without thinking about what her hands have been doing. And more chocolate.