A Ball of Poop
Before I share this experience, you should know that I have major problems with broken glass, raw meat, and feces. In my family, if a glass breaks, someone is cooking with raw meat, or poop gets where it shouldn't, I HAVE to be the one to clean it up. My husband learned this early on in our marriage...no offense to his or anyone else's cleaning skills.
This memorable event took place in our home when I had just three kids. Peter, my second child who had just turned 2, was learning to go without diapers. On this occasion, he had a "number two" accident. I was in the process of changing his pants but also needed to grab a clean pair of underwear from his room. Before I left everyone in Paul's room, I assessed that Paul, (about 9 months old) also had a "number two" in his diaper. So I changed Paul first.
Meanwhile, Grace (4 1/2 years old) was running around, playing...probably pretending to be a dog or penguin. I asked her to stay with the boys in Paul's room while I went to get undies for Peter. While digging through a laundry basket, I heard a deep belly laugh down the hallway from Grace followed with a phrase I will never forget; "Mom! Paul is playing with a BALL OF POOP!"
I ran out of Peter's room to find...it was TRUE! My baby Paul had made a new discovery. While crawling in the hallway, my baby Paul had discovered a large ball of poop, SCOOPED IT into both hands, TOSSED it against the wall...and was now SMILING with delight.
Apparently, Peter had dropped a log in his sweatpants, and because he had on no underwear (unknown to me beforehand), it fell right out the pant leg while I was changing Paul.
Poop was on Peter's legs, poop was on Paul's hands, poop was on the hallway floor, poop was on the wall and poop was on the carpet in Paul's room.
After a moment of panic mixed with laughter, I quickly brought Peter and Paul to the bathtub and filled it with the warm, soapy water. Grace was instructed to stay away from the "poop zone." The boys were washed up from head to toe...twice. Next, I strapped Paul in his highchair and gave all three kids a snack as I thoroughly cleaned and sanitized the walls, baseboards and floors. And THAT...is my worst poop experience to date.
Peanut Butter Stir Sticks and Other Naughtiness
First of all, once Lindsey told me her "Ball of Poop" story, I laughed so hard I cried. And I have hoped I would NEVER EVER have a story that could top a baby playing handball down the hallway wall with a ball of his brother's poop. Thankfully, I can't top The Ball of Poop.
But here is what happens when you spend too long feeding new baby sister on the couch upstairs and leave two "big" brothers (ages 3, and 17 months) alone in the basement a little too long...
My husband took this picture. I remember at the time wondering why in the world he wanted a picture of that. Had I a better sense of humor 2 1/2 years ago as a new mother of 3, I could have filled an entire album with pictures along these lines of my boys in their naughty stage. Back then the thought of snapping the camera at one of them smirking beside an entire bag of grapes sprinkled and stomped on all over the floor, or entire bags of dumped flour or sugar, or entire lotion bottles or butt paste or toothpaste squeezed and smeared all over the bathroom or whatever the lucky room, or entire spice bottles shaken all over countertops and floor, or entire bottles of salad dressing emptied on the rug…never occurred to me in my stupor. I won't even mention my middle child's fascination with swirling around toilet water with his entire arm.
My husband and I used to wake up to noises in the kitchen at 5:30 a.m. and find our 18-month-old middle child cleaning out our cabinets and dispersing the contents like a sprinkler hose all over the floor: brown sugar, flour, sugar, beans, spices, grapes...I can’t even remember what else. After a couple weeks of this, my husband came up with the idea of baby-gating the boys’ room at night, rendering all naughtiness inaccessible at ungodly hours. Brilliant. Took us long enough. It must have been the sleep deprivation.
Still even after that one morning I came downstairs after changing a diaper to find this same middle child “skating” on an entire container of oats all over the kitchen floor. I sternly sent him to his room and swept up the mess as quickly as possible for the sake of my other children’s safety as well as my own sanity. It’s too bad. I missed a lot of kodak moments.
Thankfully my boys have moved on to bigger and better stages...like knights and legos. And for some reason, my girls aren't so fascinated on creating catastrophe...as long as I give them juice to pour from a teapot into their little cups. Chocolate covered raisins on their little saucers are an added delight too. We sometimes even lasso the brothers into our tea parties with these!
Certainly there are times for correcting my babies, but when I stand back, I hope to smile at all these baby stages. They will be fun to recount someday...even the naughty ones. I hear the little ones can jump through these stages before you turn around.
Tales of a Squirrel
A Word of Inspiration: Go For It!