When Life Gives You...
...lemons, you make a lemon genoise with lemon buttercream and fresh raspberries lemonade. We are watching what we eat, after all. When life gives you the worst case of explosive baby poo that you've ever seen, you get out the blunt end craft scissors and cut your child out of his undershirt.
Yep, that was me last night. Felix was enjoying some quality time in his bouncy seat, watching the older boys play Wii baseball while I made dinner. When he started complaining, I went in to investigate and discovered that he'd pooped through his diaper and pants, and that it had spread up his front back, and both sides, thoroughly saturating his undershirt from the ribcage down. Sheesh, the stuff moves fast...
I've been changing gross diapers for more than ten years, they don't usually stump me. I can extract most babies from a poop explosion with minimal clean-up. Here, I was completely at a standstill. There was no way to get him out of that shirt without getting poop on his face, and that's just icky. So, I called for Big Brother J (who's apparently my clean up flunkie) to stand with Felix at the changing mat while I got the craft scissors and a plastic grocery bag.
After stripping him down, giving him asponge baby wipe bath, and getting him into a clean shirt, I gathered up the poopy clothes, diapers, and wipes in the bag, and took the scissors to the sink to rinse before putting them into the dishwasher.
Big Brother J was appalled that I destroyed the undershirt. (It was a little snug, and one of a $3 five-pack at Target. I do not mourn its passing overmuch.) He was also nearly hysterical at the idea of poop smearing out of a diaper. Because he is, you know,male nine years old. I was pretty loopy myself by the end of it. Wouldn't you be?
Yep, that was me last night. Felix was enjoying some quality time in his bouncy seat, watching the older boys play Wii baseball while I made dinner. When he started complaining, I went in to investigate and discovered that he'd pooped through his diaper and pants, and that it had spread up his front back, and both sides, thoroughly saturating his undershirt from the ribcage down. Sheesh, the stuff moves fast...
I've been changing gross diapers for more than ten years, they don't usually stump me. I can extract most babies from a poop explosion with minimal clean-up. Here, I was completely at a standstill. There was no way to get him out of that shirt without getting poop on his face, and that's just icky. So, I called for Big Brother J (who's apparently my clean up flunkie) to stand with Felix at the changing mat while I got the craft scissors and a plastic grocery bag.
After stripping him down, giving him a
Big Brother J was appalled that I destroyed the undershirt. (It was a little snug, and one of a $3 five-pack at Target. I do not mourn its passing overmuch.) He was also nearly hysterical at the idea of poop smearing out of a diaper. Because he is, you know,
Labels: Baby on Board, The Carpet Bag
posted by Cameron | 8:55 AM
3 Comments:
I remember the days! I used to like the little undershirts that buttoned up the front for that very situation. :O) Good solution, mum! samm
Now matter how old we get, poop still remains funny.
Amazing.
I have now adopted the approach of simply throwing out the underwear when there's an accident. I figure there's really no point in trying to salvage it. We don't worry about tossing a pair every now and then and the benefits of not having to clean it are immense.
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