"Can I take a baff Mommy? I NooooT splash!"
"Ok Max, yes you can take a bath."
"Maggie, wanna take a baff?" "Mommy said yes."
And before you know it, clothes are strewn about the house, the diaper is ripped free and mr. nakey buns is running wild. He giggles with such JOY at being naked.
"I nakey, I nakey." "Look Mommy" (as he stops to shake his ding ding at me) And then gallops, and I do literally mean GALLOPS (cutest damn thing EVER) down the hallway. (It's too bad he is so freaking cute and he makes my heart melt all over like a pool of goo everytime he talks)
So tonight, just as he's stripped down and is running around in bliss, the doorbell rang. It was a friend of mine stopping by to say hello. So what, let him run I thought. My friend and I visited for just a minute, and she was treated to the double nakey show too.
Then, Max came out of his bedroom and proudly stated...
"I poopy Mommy."
"Yeah, I pooped."
"You POOPED? On the carpet?"
"Right here Mommy." And he turns and points near his doorway. So I cautiosly head back to peruse the damage. All the while praying under my breath, please let it be a false alarm, please let it be a false alarm.
OH BALLS! NOT a false alarm. Two steaming turdlets right there on the floor.
I yelled to my seasoned and experienced mother friend....what do I do with tihs? I've never dealt with poo on the carpet. She "rudely" laughed and said, "I'm gonna let you deal with that one, i gotta go." CRAP!
So, I took care of it, as best I could. And then had to chase Max down to wipe off his poop covered bum bum.
Seriously...I don't know what to think of this. Maggie never once, NEVER did this to me. Never took her diaper off, never ran around naked. Never. She has had only a couple of poop accidents after potty training, but again, NOT.ON.THE.CARPET.
Max on the other hand....crazy town. He has figured out how to take his pants off (which was my last frontier of safety) and now has them off constantly, which generally leads to him removing the diaper. Thankfully he has never removed a poopy diaper, just pee pee ones. He must love the feel of the wind on his willy, free ballin, whatever. But, a week or so ago, we had a very similar incident, except that he left his little "present" on my kitchen floor.
I'm telling you now, I don't think there is enough xanax in the world to help me through this next phase. I don't do poop people. I just don't do it. It's gross, and dirty and stinky and does NOT belong on the floor (or walls, or cribs or anywhere but the toilet)....EVER!
So, my hats off to you people of the poop battlefields. I know you're all laughing, smiling, nodding your heads in all knowingness. It's about time I had to deal, right? I admire your fortitude, your ability to roll with those punches and clean up the hideous messes.
Pray for me, 'cause I'm gonna need it.
And to Dixie, my humblest apologies. I fear I'm gonna have a tutu wearing, naked streaker just like Owen. I can see how exhausting it gets to keep clothes on them, when all they do is rip it off instantly.
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