Adventures in Pooping

Today was one of the grossest days that I've had thus far in Mommyland. There have been a lot of gross days.......... The night I was so exhausted that I didn't realize brand new Max had pooped in my bed and I slept in it; the day Max spit up IN my mouth; or the day his little booty turned into a cannon and his projectile poo shot out like a rocket over the edge of the changing table and all over the floor and myself. All of these mentioned incidents happened very early on so nothing of that nature has happened in a while.

Until today.

Once a day I let Max run around for a bit in the nude. It airs out his booty, he giggles and squeals as he embraces his "freedom" and I just love to see that cute little tush running around. Anyway, this afternoon naked Max walked into the kitchen. I called for him and as he rounded the corner he started crying. That's odd, I thought. Nothing touched him and he didn't fall. Hmm. Oh well. He took a few steps into the living room and I noticed that he had something in his mouth. Before you could say "what's he chewing on?" I was kneeling next to him doing the finger sweep. A mushy brown substance fell onto my finger. "What is it?" Husband asks. "Dog food" I tell him. Max has been known to eat a kibble or two. I walk into the kitchen to discard the "dog food" and wash my hands when I see it. A turd. A turd and a tiny puddle of pee on the kitchen floor.

Oh. Em. Gee.
"Umm... it wasn't dog food" I yell to hubby. He enters the kitchen. "It's poop!" He exclaims. Why yes, husband, yes it is poop. I clean up the poop, wash my hands, and SERIOUSLY fight back the urge to vomit. My sweet little baby had poo in his mouth. GAG GAG GAG. I put a diaper on Max and I go to town brushing his teeth and scrubbing his tongue with his toothbrush. In my mind I am wishing he was old enough for mouthwash. Max cries. He does not like the tongue scrubbing. "Too bad," I tell him, "maybe if you weren't being freaking disgusting I wouldn't have to do this!" As if he knows what I'm saying. Then I remember... he was crying after he put it into his mouth. Hmm... maybe he had the sense to realize that it was nasty and he didn't like the taste. But probably not. I am hoping I caught him before he swallowed any but who knows.

Later this evening after I recovered from the poo in mouth incident- and "recovered" is not an exaggeration... I think husband is still traumatized. I didn't see him go near Max's mouth for the rest of the day- I put Max in the tub and emptied his net of bath toys. I stepped out for MAYBE 2 seconds to grab a wash cloth and when I knelt by the tub I noticed it. Turds.

Are you kidding me?? Not again. I know all kids poop in the tub at least once but Max had yet to do this and frankly, I had had enough poop for the day. Max looked at me, grinned, and tried to drink his bath water out of his bucket. Umm, no. Not again. I get Max out of the tub, get rid of the floaties, drain the water and refill. I quickly wash Max and do not let him play out of fear that more floaties will soon appear. Fortunately, they do not and I was not subject to poo for the rest of the evening.

YUCK. What a day. I could go without dealing with that for the rest of my life... but I'm sure that is not the last of our adventures in pooping. And THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is why (among other reasons) we vaccinate! But I won't elaborate on that...... that's a whole nother can of worms.