how do I stop this crazy train?

Saturday, December 30, 2006

A hard lesson learned as a photo op quickly turned sour

Last night as I was changing yet another diaper (I think I could do it in my sleep now) I decided it was close enough to her bath time, I might as well leave the diaper off and just throw her in the tub. I stripped her down to her birthday suit and then she hopped up, grabbed a blanket and started being cute. As you may have guessed, I hopped up, grabbed the camera and started shooting. I was laughing, she was laughing, we were having a good time. We were wrapping up the photo shoot and I went back to our bedroom to see if Michael could give her the bath because I had cut my finger earlier and it stung when I put it in water. He was busy painting the bathroom so I headed back to the living room trying to mentally prepare myself for the pain of soapy water in a cut that probably could have used a few stitches.
I rounded the corner into the living room I was greeted by a horrificly pugnent smell as I tried to piece together what exactly had happened in my living room or “ground zero” as I later began calling it. What is that on the floor? What is all over my childs feet and legs? Why is she smiling? I guess one of the perks of babyhood is that you go whenever the notion strikes and apparently the notion had struck my sweet little angel in the middle of the living room floor. I watched in horror as she walked towards me dragging the blanket through the mess and leaving little poopy footprints with each step she took. For once, the thought of grabbing the camera did not even cross my mind. I quickly scooped her up and started screaming for my strong-stomached husband. He started the ugly business of getting the poo off the floor and I went to get Miss Poop into the bath. Naturally the shower curtain had fallen down and was laying in the tub because I guess I didn’t have enough on my plate as it was. I had to set Miss poop down so I could throw the shower curtain out of the tub which of course led to more poopy foot prints.
Finally, I got her into the tub and started scrubbing. I thought I had scrubbed everything but I kept smelling poop. I quickly discovered that I had poop all over my forearm and I had been artfully swiping poop all over the side of the tub as I scrubbed. This being a germ freaks nightmare, I instantly had visions of hepatitus dancing in my head. After much soap and much bleach I am almost to the point that I can go into her bathroom without gagging. The moral of this story: keep any time sans diaper short and supervised... duh.