It’s been a long time since I’ve posted. As it turns out, managing life with two kids hasn’t left a lot of time for blogging. I’m going to try to do better moving forward, but with a third on the way in August, I’m not making any promises. So instead of dwelling on my inconsistency, I’ve decided to share my funny morning story (that’s been more of a regular occurrence than I’d prefer).
This morning, unlike most, I was able to get completely ready for work before the boys were awake. Score! As I was putting on my (minimal) makeup and combing my hair, I could hear Alex’s crib mattress creaking and tell he was up. But he was being pretty quiet, and I thought, “No harm in finishing up here since he’s so content.”
Oh. My. What a mistake…
My “little helper” had very generously removed his pajama pants. And his poop-filled diaper. And tried to take care of the situation by throwing the poop out of his crib (or, as I discovered a bit later, dropping a big handful behind the crib, causing it to smear all over the wall).
He was in the process of stomping on the little poop bits that didn’t make it outside the crib, thereby grinding them into his crib sheet, as I was walking through the door of the boy’s room. (It was reminiscent of the I Love Lucy episode where Lucy and Ethel were smashing grapes to make wine. While Alex wasn’t smashing grapes, it was almost as funny.)
All I could do was laugh. And take a photo (I’ll need something to embarrass him with during his teenage years, right?). And draw an emergency bath while Alex as still contained in the poop-covered crib. While I was doing so, Alex proceeded to pee. It was clear he felt bad about the amount of cleaning his crib was going to require, so he made sure to pee right through the crib railings into a nice puddle on the carpeted floor. That way I wouldn’t need to spend any additional time on the crib, but maybe a bit more time on the floor.
Oh my little poop master. You bring such excitement to our lives!