Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Little Baby Poop-Hands

I have spent the last few days coming to terms with the fact that Ryan is no longer the precious little pee-baby I once knew.

Four days ago:

He emptied  around 30 sweaters from my closet and rolled around in them. Little pieces of banana and cheerios where embedded in every "hand-wash only" piece of clothing.

Three days ago:

He saw that I had started a bath. I left the room for 4.79 seconds and when I came back, he had jumped in..... completely dressed.

I was about to shower anyway, so I stripped down and joined him. I was sitting in the tub, peeling his clothes off when I smelt pee. 

Oops! I must have forgotten that he loves to pee and probably had at least 1/2 - 1 full cup of urine in his diaper..... Since the diaper was fully submerged in the water all the baby piss was seeping through his diaper into the bath water I was playing in. 

Luckily for me, I remembered reading somewhere that swimming in baby urine is good for the skin.

Two days ago:

Pee-baby showcased his physical dexterity by skillfully climbing out of his crib and waking me up with an evil/proud giggle and a 2-handed slap in the face. Instead of waking up and caring for my child, I put a pillow over my head and let him run wild through the house for an hour. 

When I did drag my listless body out of bed, I was pleased to discover that Pee-Toddler had only eaten 3 entire tubes of chapstick. 


Only after I video taped him crawling out did I realize my mistake in encouraging his anti-authority behavior.

Now I have to figure out a new method of caging him up at night.

And finally, yesterday:

I was in the office pretending to work hard when Pee-Toddler came in and tried to crawl on my lap. 
I pushed him off asap because I smelt something foul. 
Ryan was covered in poop.

He had taken off all of his clothes and pinched a huge loaf in his diaper. 

After completing his #2, he stuck his right hand down the back of his diaper, grabbed some soft serve and wiped it onto his belly. With a continuous motion he drug his hand up over his face and onto his hair. 
(Though I was not an actual eye-witness to the poop incident, I am pretty sure this is exactly what happened given the evidence presented.)

 I HATE poop, so no, I didn't take a picture. I was too busy hating my life.

Immediately after I threw Ryan in the bath (yep, the same bath he made pee-soup in a couple day before) I had to go on a hunt for any fece(s) he may have distributed around the house. I didn't find any smears besides the ones on Ryan's body, but for the rest of the day I was suspicious.

I felt betrayed by my own flesh and blood. 

This was just another situation where I was so offended that I am not going to go to church for at least two weeks.

Only someone who loves poop a lot would wipe it in their own hair.
From here on out, I reserve the right to refer to Cryin' Ryan as "Poop-hands" where I see fit.

 seriously you guys, amen.

1 comment:

    One word : overalls.
    (Not only can't they get them off, but you can grab him and carry him. Amen.)


Speak with your heart or your private parts, either one is fine with me.


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