As promised in my last post about my failure of a social life, here is the story you’ve all been waiting for. Because who doesn’t love a good baby & poop story??
RJ and I usually shower together in the mornings. I need my daily shower. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve missed my daily shower since he was born. I wasn’t one of those moms who had the same PJs or robe on for a week straight during the newborn days. I NEEDED my showers and made sure I got them, one way or another. If the baby had to sit in his bouncer and scream for 5 minutes then that’s what he had to do!
My husband goes to work pretty early, so I’m not about to wake up at 5am to get my shower in. And now RJ doesn’t nap until after noon, so I don’t want to wait until midday. But he’s not quite at the age where I trust him running around our house unsupervised while I’m in the shower and can’t hear him knocking shit over. So showering together is my solution. I bring cups and tupperware and toys into the shower for him to fill with water and splash and play with. He has a blast. And he gets clean, too, which means we eliminate the need for an evening bathtime for him. That’s a win-win for me. Most days it is anyway.
After our shower I wrap RJ up in a towel and we cuddle while I dry him off. As soon as the drying-off part is done, he’s wiggling out of my grasp to avoid getting diapered and dressed. Because what 20 month old doesn’t love running around the house naked, grabbing at his baby-junk? Mine sure does. I’ll usually risk it, and let him run around in the nude for 10 minutes or so while I finish getting dressed, brushing my teeth, etc. It’s never been a problem before.
Until last week.
I was in the middle of brushing my teeth when RJ ran up to me fretting and grabbing at my legs. I figured he just wanted to be a part of the teeth-brushing routine, which he sometimes does. (He likes when I give him a piece of floss so he can mimic flossing his teeth). But when I bent down to pick him up, I stopped short and noticed a tiny little bit of poop hanging from his baby butt.
He must have dropped a baby deuce somewhere.
I grabbed him under his arms and held him out far away from me while we went from my bathroom to the changing table in his bedroom, keeping an eye out to not step in his pile of poop along the way. I got him cleaned up with a fresh diaper and then went in search of the present I assumed he left for me somewhere.
I never found it.
It’s been a week and a half.
So, maybe it doesn’t exist? Maybe it was only just that little tiny poop that was still attached to his bum, and that’s it?
Or maybe we’ll come across it someday a few months from now when we’re moving furniture around.
I’ll be sure to update when we do.