You may have noticed that there is a bit of a rhyme and reason to what I talk about each day on the blog, but if you haven’t, Monday is Monday Minutes when I give updates on the biggest events for the family over the last week (Check out Daily Themes, to learn the others). I wrote the post Sunday afternoon that I had planned on publishing for Monday and then we had the poop incident happen, and I decided to truly tell you the BIGGEST happenings in the Marinkovich house this weekend, I was going to have to scrap that post and share the real goods. As I write this a couple of hours after the event, I still shudder to think about what I just experienced. And then I cringe to think that had I just been thinking a little, this all could have been avoided.
Warning, if you’re eating, you might want to come back and read the rest later.
As a little back up, Kyle traveled for work this weekend and it was my first stretch of more than 36 hours with both boys. I got some great lunchtime visits both days from friends Janet and Kathy (thanks for bringing lunch too!) to give the boys a new face to see and me some mommy time with friends while the boys napped. Sunday at dinner I was starting to pat myself on the back. Just two hours to bed time, I had made it. I’m really getting this parenting two kids thing down (yes, I know it’s been a year, I’m a slow learner).
After dinner I was changing Owen’s diaper and Kellen said, “I have to go poop too”. I told him to head into the bathroom and I’d be right behind him. He left the den and 30 seconds later I found him wide-eyed in the kitchen, “I pooped.” Internally cringing (poop repulses me) while keeping the its-no-big-deal tone, “In your underwear?” “uh huh” was the reply. Still faking the calm voice, “okay, you go into the bathroom, I’ll go get the wipes” That was bad decision #1. Bad decision #2 was that I figured I had time to run upstairs to get his nighttime diaper – no point getting a pair of underwear dirty for one hour, right?
Maybe a total of one minute later, I am met about 5 feet out of the recently cleaned powder room to find Kellen in the hallway scraping his feet on the floor, “I got poop on my foot” and he raises his foot to show me a squashed chunk of poop on the bottom of his foot. Trying not to gag, I go to pick him up to carry him back to the bathroom and he holds up his arm, “and on my elbow too” and I see a wet streak of poop running down his arm. Calm mommy voice is turning into tense mommy trying really, really hard to stay calm voice. I pull out a wipe and get the foot and any smudges on the floor and take him into the bathroom to wash his arm. In the bathroom I find a squashed turd on the floor and a couple smears to match. In the sink is wet, used toilet paper and streaks of poop. Ick, Ugh, Disgusting are simultaneously being screamed in my head, “okay, up to the shower” I manage to get out without my voice cracking. The shower goes fine. I hold the nozzle, so it’s very supervised and I made sure to get the rear really good. As we finish, Owen starts getting bored by himself and crying downstairs so I wrap Kellen in his towel and tell him to come downstairs to get into his night diaper and jammies. As I calm Owen, Kellen starts playing his flute and singing the Minnesota Fight song as he marches on the couch, occasional plopping down for effect. I can still smell poop so I looked in Owen’s pants, all clean. And then the alarm goes off in my head. “Kellen, do you still have poop in your butt?” Curious, he stops jumping and slides his cheeks down the back of the couch and lands on the seat cushion and as he spreads his legs to investigate I am horrified to see he clearly had not gotten as clean in the shower as I thought. He looks down and as a 3-year-old that needs to touch everything he sees, he takes his hand and scoops some poop. I start yelling (calm mommy has left the building) as soon as I saw his arm start to work, but he’s a quickly little guy and I only stopped him when his finger was about two inches from his nose. I grab the hand and gather my composure telling him to get down on the floor and lay on the towel. Frustrated that he just got yelled at, he wipes it across the carpeted floors. Composure? What composure? I yell, “What are you doing? That is disgusting, stop that!” and as any 3-year-old that is yelled at does, he starts crying and then Owen starts crying and I look around to see both kids in tears, several poop smears on the couch and floor, and know the bathroom looks just about the same and well… I take back everything I said about being good at this two kids parent thing.
Honey! Please come home!
So, I’m dying to know. How did you teach your kids that poop is icky, foul, nasty, dirty, disgusting and absolutely should never, ever be touched, not even just a little and for God’s sake, NO you do not need to put it close to your nose to see what it smells like?
We did make up, here’s the proof.© Copyright Tatum, All rights Reserved. Written For: Ain't No Roller Coaster