Since this post is about E~, I am going to first start with a little update. I’ve been saying for a couple of weeks that I was about to be in trouble with this kid.
I’m in trouble with this kid.
This past Saturday, he put a few things together and made a breakthrough. Forward movement. I’ve got me a crawler.
Of course, within the span of a couple of days, it has gone from uncoordinated scootching to all-out mobility. He is now inserting himself into his brothers’ play, which they are very tolerant of. He has also found my magazine rack. Magazines make great sounds when ripped to shreds.
But crawling isn’t enough for E~. Oh no. There are other milestones to suddenly hit. Today, I watched him pull himself up to standing at our bay window. Cruising is inevitable. Walking can’t be that far behind.
I’m not ready for this.
Some friends of ours had a garage sale today. Since they were getting rid of a lot of clothes in the right size for my kids, I decided to pack the kids up and head over there. Fifteen minutes, five dollars, and eight shirts later, we were on our way. E~ was getting grouchy, but that didn’t surprise me since I had left the kids in the car while I was sorting through clothes and he isn’t fond of the carseat.
Since we just finished our most recent Magic Tree House book, I thought it would be a fun thing to take the kids to Target to pick out a new book to read together. We parked, I got everyone out, and we headed towards a cart sitting in the parking lot. As my older kids argued over who got to sit in the big seats (it was a multi-seater cart), I started to set E~ into the traditional basket seat.
That’s when I saw it.
There was a gob of poop on my hand. And on his clothes. And on my shirt…
Now, to have a full appreciation of this story, you have to understand what E~ was wearing. It was a hooded, long sleeved, long pants, snap at the crotch, one piece sweat suit. Putting it on him involves something not unlike stuffing a sausage. He had managed to not only poop out of the diaper, but also through the little openings in the crotch snaps. In addition to it being all over both of us, it was all over his car seat.
I wiped as much of it off of us as I could. The older boys were surprisingly cooperative about getting back into their seats. While I really would have preferred not making the drive home covered in poop, my only other option would have been to make the drive topless. While this may have provided a certain level of entertainment to surrounding drivers, I really didn’t see it as a viable option. So I folded my shirt up on itself as best as I could to protect my seatbelt from contamination and drove home horrified.
When I got home, I started the bath water before even getting the kids out of the car. An outfit that is put on in a stuffed-sausage manner is peeled off in a way that leaves blown-out poop in the baby’s hair. As I was working on removing E’s clothes, my phone rang. I knew it was Sean, calling on his way home from work.
“Hey, I’d love to talk, but I’m covered in poop.”
Sometimes, brevity is the best option.
“Um, good luck with that. I’ll talk to you soon.” Click.
We survived. Sean, realizing that I most likely wasn’t working on dinner at this point, picked up a pizza. My wonderful three older boys decided to rake leaves without any prompting. Life went on.
Just another day in my life.