It’s Not All Mary Poppins

It was a moist day at Mary’s

Baby Josh reels by. He’s still not walking anything like steadily, that boy. The girls knock him over just by passing too quickly. They don’t even have to pass close, just whip by fast on the other side of the room. Maybe it has more to do with him looking one way — at the racing children — while attempting to continue in a different direction. Or maybe it’s just vagrant thoughts, neurons colliding in his wee head, which are knocking him over. The boy is unsteady, I’m saying.

He’s also, at this moment, foul. There’s a thick green cloud of toxic sludge wafting from his butt end, I’m sure. So nasty in the air you can practically taste it. Gah.

When I lay him down on the floor — all diaper changes happen on my hardwood floor, easy to access, easy to clean — I discover the foulness has escaped the confines of the diaper. Out the legs, up the back pretty much to his armpits. It’s gross, and it’s everywhere. Really, he needs a bath, but that’s very hard to do with four other children toodling around.

(And if you think I could just bring us all up to the bathroom, you have not been around long enough to have heard me note how very small my home is. There is not room, and I do mean that quite literally — there is not sufficient floor space in my bathroom — for four toddlers and an adult.)

So, no bath for Josh. Just diaper wipes. Lots and lots and lots of diaper wipes. Well over a dozen. Five for the butt. Three for the stomach. Six for the back. Oh! One for his left armpit. So charming. They just keep piling up on top of the diaper that lies on the floor beside me, off-gassing toxic fumes into my home.

If you’ve been around for long enough, you also know that Grace and Jazz are poo-vultures. The are drawn to the stuff, in an utterly morbid (and revolting) way. Usually I shoo them away before I begin with a poopy diaper, but for some reason, this time I didn’t. So there they are, peering in and chatting about it between themselves.

“Josh has a big poo!”
“Does Josh have a big poo, Mary?” (This, I ignore.)
“Look! He has poo in his bellybutton!”
“Oh, no! He stuck his foot in the poo, and now his sock gots poo on it!”

Yes, indeed. Rivetting stuff, poo. The fascination never ends. In fact, the fascination of Josh’s shit-smeared body became so engrossing for Grace that she managed to sit in the growing pile of excremented diaper wipes on top of the poo-filled diaper.

“GRACE! Don’t move!” Because there’s nothing I can do about it right now, is there? I have Toxic Boy in front of me, and if I let go, he will immediately make his speedy and shit-strewing way across my home. Immediately.

Grace, however, is capable of sitting stock-still for a couple of minutes. Bless her heart. Not so blessed is the smear of poo on the side of her tights. Urgh.

Josh de-toxified, I turn my attention to Grace. We peel the tights off, thankfully the only item of clothing befouled, and as I lift them away, she pauses, her face twitches, and she sneezes. Directly onto my shirt. A fully loaded sneeze. Yellow snot adorns the black wool.

Charming.

And if I’d had time to write this post yesterday, that would be where it ended. You’d think that was enough, no? Poo in glorious abundance, with a chaser of snot? I’d say that was enough.

The Fates disagreed.

Later that same day:

Baby Josh discovers the potty. (Poppy is being potty-trained; more on that another day.) There is not much in the potty. With two dogs, three toddlers and couple of 14-month-old babies in the house, I’m careful about these things. But the last pee has not been dispensed with yet.

The last pee was, thank GOODNESS, a small one. (Most of them are. Poppy very quickly registered that if you dispense your pee in many small increments, you get MORE SMARTIES!!!) THANK GOODNESS, I say, because Josh has not only discovered the potty, which he has never really noticed before, but he discovered that “HEY! This inside part LIFTS RIGHT OUT!” Whee!

So he whips out the pee-laced bowl and waves it about a bit. With predictable results. Waves it and, because he’s sitting right there, his kicking feet smear the small puddle around a bit. It is my sudden dart across the room that catches Jazz’s attention, and I’m sure that’s why she had to run in the same direction. Only, starting from a different angle, and a little closer, she got there first.

And soaked one foot of her tights. Happily, Jazz does not have a cold. So I managed to change her without getting further besmirched.

Pee, poo, and snot. All over bodies, all over clothing, all over my living room floor. Guess I should be grateful no one added vomit to the day, huh?

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December 4, 2012 - Posted by | eeewww, Grace, Jazz, Joshua, potty tales, the dark side | , ,

9 Comments »

  1. I got fire-hose peed on by a kid who has been toilet trained for six months now, as suddenly this week she’s started regressing big time. And I’ve had the poo everywhere. And the snot gobs. But never all in one go. YUCK.

    A girl managed to fire-hose pee? That takes talent!

    Comment by Hannah | December 5, 2012 | Reply

  2. One time here, a 1-year-old threw up. On the carpeted playroom. Because that wasn’t bad enough, since I don’t deal well with puke…the other 1-year-old toddled over and sat right down IN IT. I contemplated retirement. I would have had to contemplate it after a day like yours as well!

    Heh. I was texting a friend on and off during the day, and at the end of it all, I said, “That’s it. I quite. If you need me for anything, I’ll be in Tahiti.”

    Comment by Bev | December 5, 2012 | Reply

  3. Gack!

    Exactly. Just that.

    Comment by Darcy's mum | December 5, 2012 | Reply

  4. Please tell me that YOU got a long, hot (and soapy) bath at the end of this day…

    A well-deserved one it was, too!

    Comment by rosie_kate | December 5, 2012 | Reply

  5. Once had a child in daycare poop so badly it leaked down his pants, onto the carpeted floor. we didn’t realize how bad it was until we heard the other babies saying “EWW. EWW. EWW” it was on the floor, the toys,EVERYWHERE.” Atrocious

    Comment by Brooke | December 5, 2012 | Reply

  6. You inspired me to write a post about my own lovely germ-filled fluid-covered day with the baby twins I look after on occasion! :) Sorry yours was similar . . . poop and vomit are just the worst.

    Comment by torontonanny | December 5, 2012 | Reply

  7. Oops, meant to leave you the link! http://torontonannyblog.com/2012/12/05/diva-footballers-gross-post/

    Comment by torontonanny | December 5, 2012 | Reply

  8. Kids are just adorable.

    Comment by IfByYes | December 8, 2012 | Reply

  9. How ever much you are paid, it is not enough.

    Comment by the gold digger | December 21, 2012 | Reply


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