Everyone knows that number one is code for pee and number two is synonymous with poop, but what, exactly, is number three you ask?
I think this video explains it best:
Hannah was just a baby when that commercial came out, so naturally, I found it hilarious and actually understood what they were talking about. I can imagine that a non-parent/caregiver/nanny would watch it and think what the heck. Poo explosions were a regular occurrence when the kids were babies, but I haven’t had to worry about it for at least a year. Until recently….
Last week:
“Mommy, I need to go to the toilet!” Daniel tells me urgently at a friend’s house. I pick him up and run to the bathroom. At home he wears undies, but when we’re out, I don’t really want to deal with poopy underwear, so he wears a pull up. I don’t really want to deal with poopy underwear any time, but it’s so much worse when we’re out. Not to mention the pooped on garments sit there fermenting in a bag until we get home if he poops in undies while we are out. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
I pull down his pants and underwear as fast as humanely possible and lift him up onto the toilet. He wants down less than a second after I put him up.
“Nope.” He tells me. False alarm. He knows there is a poo coming soon, but he’s not so good with the actual timing. I know there must be one coming soon too, he hasn’t pooped in 2-3 days, and he’s a daily sort of boy. The two tiny little wet fart type accidents he’s already had today make me think he’s holding it in and has a bit of overflow. Yes, that’s a thing. I know all about it because Hannah used to hold it in. She still does sometimes, but I can tell when she’s doing it and make her go sit on the toilet. I guess she figures if she’s already on the toilet she might as well just go, so it’s not really a problem anymore.
I think Daniel is doing it because he doesn’t want to poop his undies or pull up. But he doesn’t want to go on the toilet either.
We have about five more false alarms at my friends house before we have to leave to go to a different friend’s house, one who’s house I’ve never been to before.
He has another false alarm there before I notice he’s lingering in the bathroom all by himself. Just standing there, away from everyone. A quick check of the pull up reveals he’s already started his poop, which is fine, I’m just glad he’s finally pooping.
“I need to go to the toilet!” He tells me. But it’s not just a turtle head, there is already some poop in his pull up. If I try to get if off, then put him on my friend’s toilet, I’m likely to get poop all over the toilet seat. Not exactly what I want to do at someone else’s house.
“There’s already some in your pull up buddy, just finish your poop in your pull up.” I tell him. If we were at home, I’d get poop everywhere and put him on the potty or toilet anyway.
I leave him to it and he stands in the bathroom by himself for ages before finally coming out.
“I’ll be right back, I just have to go to the car to get a new pull up and some wipes.” I tell my friend as Daniel sits down on the new carpet next to Hannah.
“Ok buddy, let’s go change your bottom.” I tell him whilst picking him up.
That’s when I notice; the 2-3 days worth of poop isn’t contained in his pull up. Not even remotely. We’re definitely talking about number threes here. My eyes widen in horror as I realize there is a big brown spot of poop on my friend’s beige carpet. Her brand new beige carpet.
My mind races. Should I help clean up the carpet poop? Should I run Daniel into the bathroom and deal with carpet poop later? I can’t believe there is poop on the carpet. I should clean it up, but what about Daniel? Won’t he just sit down again and make more poop spots? My mind is made up in a second.
Holding Daniel by the armpits out in front of me as if he’s toxic, I run him to the bathroom, where there is a tiled floor, to change his clothes and clean him up. The poop is half way up his back and oozing out both sides of the nappy. I don’t even know where to begin.
“Do you have a hose outside?” I ask my friend.
She looks at me like I’ve gone crazy. It is the middle of winter after all. “Yes, but you don’t need to do it outside.”
“Can I give him a bath here?”
“Of course.” I think she is stifling laughter.
It’s impossible to peel his clothes off without spreading the poop, so now there is poop not only on his back, bottom, stomach, and legs, but also his shoulders. The poo clothes are put in a plastic bag, which will have to ferment until I get home. We somehow managed to get poop all over the bathroom floor as well. There is even some on the bottom of Daniel’s shoe which has made poop tread marks on the tiles. The once white bathtub is streaked with brown.
Daniel is standing there, naked in the tub, delighted that he gets to have a bath in a foreign bathtub. I don’t really want to get poop on someone else’s wash cloth, so I splash water on Daniel and wipe him down with my bare hand. Once all the poop is off him, I use the warm water and my hand to get it all down the drain of the bathtub before using the baby bath I find on the side of the bathtub to wash both Daniel and the bathtub.
Daniel plays in the bath while I clean the poop off the bathroom floor and finally he and the bathroom are clean. Number three has been dealt with.
Meanwhile, my friend, who is something like 39 weeks pregnant, is in her lounge room with Hannah and her daughter (who is under 2), cleaning up the soiled carpet.
“It’s a poo volcano!” I hear her say. She is using vinegar and baking soda to fix her new carpet while Hannah’s giggles fill the room. Luckily my friend has the kind of humour that finds poop hilarious.
Note to self: Always put Daniel on the toilet, even if at someone else’s house and pooping has already commenced.
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Copyright 2014 Sheri Thomson
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