He better get a 4.0

Sam's definitely an overachiever, for he has topped himself once again in the poop department.

Picture it: Father's Day, 9:00am. We're just sitting down to breakfast at a diner we like and Heath fishes Sam out of his carrier. As he picks Sam up I notice a telling stain dripping down his shorts. STEALTH POOPER STRIKES AGAIN! And even though usually on the weekends I make Heath take care of the poop, it was Father's Day so I threw myself on the grenade.

Wonderfully, the little diner we like so much doesn't have a changing table in the bathroom. *sigh* So I dragged Sam out to the car (holding him at arm's length the whole time) and set up shop in the trunk (thank goodness for SUV's).

The first thing I realized was that there was a lot of poop in his shorts and there was no way I was getting them off without smearing it EVERYWHERE. So I bit the bullet and pulled them off, coating his legs in his own excrement. And of course a 7 month old won't stop kicking his legs just because they're covered in feces, so it was really a lovely sight. I'm sure everyone in the packed parking lot appreciated it.

At this point in the story I want to take a moment to thank my grandmother. She had the foresight to give me a plastic bag dispenser for the car and it REALLY came in handy during this situation. Thanks, Grandma! :)

So, I opened up the diaper and discovered that somehow Sam had managed to poop directly OUT of the diaper. The middle of it wasn't even soiled. He's learned how to defy physics! This does not bode well for me.

I managed to subdue his kicking legs and clean him off. Luckily I'd just put a new package of wipes in the diaper bag, otherwise we'd have lost Russian roulette. I contemplated what to do with the shorts for about two seconds and then I chucked them in the trash. Not worth it.

I think this kid is trying to break my spirit. He's pooping 3-4 times a day and now there's no break. It's just poop all the time. That is what my life is right now. Cleaning up other people's poop (and cat vomit).

And now I think my children are ganging up on me. But that's a story for another day...

(Ooohh, cliff hanger!)

It's not a mommy blog if I don't talk about poop once in a while, so fasten your seat belts folks...

My baby has a super power! Sam is... STEALTH POOPER! Able to defecate and disguise the smell until the diaper is opened! Seriously, I'd say 60% of the time I never know Sam's pooped until I start changing his diaper. Have you ever been surprised by poop? It's not fun, in ANY context.

It doesn't help that there's no rhyme or reason to his "schedule." At this age Ben reliably pooped once a day, usually in the morning. Sam won't poop for a week and then it's like the excrement carnival came to town. And it's always at the most inconvenient times. At the playground, in the middle of a movie, on a long walk. Basically any time we're NOT AT HOME. At home we have an almost unlimited number of wet wipes. But, no, Sam wants to play Russian roulette and see if my feeble pack of wipes runs out at the zoo.

The worst was a few weeks ago. We were at a friend's wedding and I took Sam out of his car seat to feed him. I set him on the crisp, white tablecloth and scooted him back a little so he wouldn't tumble off. I'm sure you can see where this is going. I noticed a peculiar stain coming from his butt and sure enough, his diaper had leaked and I'd proceeded to smear it all over the place. So, Heath took Sam to the bathroom while I tried to clean up the mess at the table. I wiped and wiped at it, but it wasn't very effective, so eventually I gave up and just put a plate over it. On a completely unrelated note, I'm suddenly realizing why people might decide not to invite children to their weddings.

UPDATE: That was the worst when I started writing this post yesterday, but Sam has topped himself! The boy is nothing if not ambitious. We went to the pool yesterday afternoon (I can already hear your groans). After swimming I took the boys into the bathroom so Ben could go and I could change Sam into a dry diaper. I neglected to grab the wipes from my bag because Sam had taken a giant poop before we left the house (occasionally he throws me a bone and poops at home), so he couldn't POSSIBLY poop again, right? Horribly, horribly wrong. Do you know what's worse than white-wedding-tablecloth poop? Watered-down-pool poop. So I'm frantically grabbing paper towels, hoping Sam doesn't roll off the changing table and listening to Ben whine at me to pull up his wet swim suit. It must not have been comfortable having his butt wiped with dry paper towels, but Sam just grinned up at me the whole time. I'm sure he was thinking: STEALTH POOPER STRIKES AGAIN!

Wish us luck (and clean floors)

One of the requirements for Ben to start preschool is that he be potty trained. Eek! Potty training is something I've been dreading since he was born. But, it coincides nicely with him outgrowing the LARGEST DIAPERS ON THE MARKET*, so this weekend we're biting the bullet. Heath took today off and we're implementing a Three Day Potty Training Method. Supposedly by Sunday Ben will be fully potty trained day and night. One of my friends from playgroup just recently used this method and it worked great for them, so I have high hopes. Ben's ready for this and I've really been pushing the peer pressure angle (which I know will bite me in the ass later): "Isaac doesn't wear diapers. Lily doesn't wear diapers. Amelia doesn't wear diapers."

Last night we took a trip to Target and bought supplies: lots of underwear, several new sets of sheets, M&M's for rewards.We're ready. Bring on the pee!


*If this doesn't work soon we'll have to put him in adult diapers.

At least he's self-aware

Yesterday morning Ben took a massive poop and it was super smelly. One of the worst in recent memory. So when I said, "Ok, let's go change your diaper," Ben replied, "Ben stinky!"

Parenting: Not for the Squeamish

Earlier this morning Ben told me he had to use the potty. I get excited when he actually tells me (yes, that's something that excites me these days *sigh*), so we rushed into the bathroom. We took off his pants and when I stripped his diaper off I noticed that there were some poop stains on it. I figured he'd just started pooping and maybe we could get some in the potty. Excitement #2 (ha, ha, #2)! However, then I noticed the fist-sized glob of poop that had fallen on the floor.

"Poop on the floor," Ben said, pointing helpfully.

Yes, yes there is.

Ben the Nurturer

During a particularly nasty diaper change the other day, Ben started saying "Elmo, Elmo!" He never cared much about stuffed animals until about a month ago when he latched onto his baby Elmo doll and they've been buddies every since. After I was done with his diaper he grabbed baby Elmo and put him on the changing table.

"Does Elmo have a dirty diaper?"

"Poop! Poop!"

So I handed Ben a wet wipe, he cleaned off baby Elmo and threw the wipe in the trash. Then he tried to put a diaper on Elmo, without much success, but it was freaking adorable.

The pee's the thing

Diaper changes have been an adventure lately. For months Ben never peed on the changing table once. Flipped over, tried to crawl off, threw tantrums when I wouldn't let him crawl off, yes. But pee? No.

Then all of a sudden last week he started peeing during every single diaper change. EVERY SINGLE ONE. That's at least 7 times a day cleaning up pools of pee. Several socks, shirts and pairs of pants (including one of mine) were victims of this pee spree. And it seemed like he was doing it on purpose, or at least was somewhat aware of what was happening. I'd throw his diaper in the pail and he'd start giggling. Then I'd notice the big wet stain under his butt. *sigh*

So I've purchased a training potty. Buying it was an experience. I have absolutely no recollection of being potty trained myself (probably a good thing), but I can't imagine they had the same array of potties back then. We went to Babies R Us last week and they had potties that sang and ones that gave you stickers. They were more like toys than toilets. I may offend someone with this statement, but I don't think we should encourage kids to play with the toilet. There I said it. Bring on the hate mail!

Needless to say, I bought the plain potty, and though it did come with some stickers, it doesn't dispense them. I have to admit that we haven't used it yet. I know once we start we shouldn't really stop and it exhausts me to think about it. I wasn't expecting this so soon. Of course, Ben's peeing antics have slowed down a little and now he only pees on the changing table maybe once a day. I can probably deal with that for a while. Isn't it sad when your life is made better by having to clean up someone else's pee only ONCE a day.

Indeed he does

Our friends Pat and Beth have a 2.5 year old son named Colin. Recently he's been learning about the anatomical differences in boys and girls, which of course can only lead to hilarity.

A few weeks ago we were hanging out at their house and I went into the bathroom to change Ben's diaper. Colin wandered in and peeked over my shoulder. After a few seconds he exclaimed, "Ben has a penis, too!"

Poop Pants

There is a rule in our family that once the dinner conversation degrades down to poop (which it always does, for some reason), the meal is over. Usually the timing works out well and we're all finished eating by then, but these days I could stop every meal before we start.

Monday afternoon I had a doctor's appointment and I took Ben along. We ended up having a ridiculously long wait time. At first Ben was asleep in his stroller. Then he woke up and happily had a staring contest with the toy bug hanging from the car seat handle. But after a while he got antsy, so I took him out and sat him on my lap. Finally, after everyone else in the room was gone, they called my name. I picked Ben up and had a horrible realization. One of those moments where time goes into slow motion. Not only had he pooped, but it had leaked out of his diaper onto his pants and onto my pants. Luckily I was wearing dark jeans, but the stain was such that it looked like I had wet myself.

I quickly stuffed Ben into the stroller and covered up the stain with my coat. Once in the examining room the nurse was distracted by Ben's charming smile, so I was able to position my t-shirt so it wasn't obvious. One weight and blood pressure check later she left and I went into Super Mom mode. Wipes! New diaper! Thank goodness I brought a change of clothes for him! He just laid on the examining table grinning up at the fluorescent light fixture. I managed to clean him up and change his clothes before the doctor came in. But the worst part was having to put my poop pants back on to drive home. Oh, those intangible joys of motherhood.

An uncanncy ability

Ben and I are on a pretty regular schedule. It's loose and varies within about an hour on any given day, depending on how achingly early he wakes up and how long he naps (not enough).

Usually I don't take a shower until late morning, but it is by no means always at the same time. However, I've noticed that no matter what time it is, when I step out of the shower that familiar odor hits my nostrils. There's Ben, in his bouncy chair, grinning up at me with a diaper full of poop. Every. Single. Time. It's as if he has to knock me down a peg or two. "Are you under the delusion you're ever going to be clean for more than 30 seconds? I don't think so..."

And it's no use trying to wait out the poop. I'll be waiting all day. I think it's the steam from the shower that triggers it. Perhaps I could get the same effect by holding him over a pot of boiling water. But that would probably lead to more comparisons with an evil witch than I'd like. And I just don't have time to build a house made of sweets.