Q and the Poo

Luckily, Q has had very few poo-catastrophes in his short life and for that I have been thankful.

He has pooed in the tub twice and was instantly terrified of it -- getting up on his tip toes and trying to splash it away. Both times I had to basically don a HAZMAT suit and cordon off the bathroom while I defogged and intensively cleaned each of the 5,789 bath toys that he insists be in the tub with him as well as the tub mat and tub.

The most recent pooh incident actually made me chuckle, I know I am going to hell because it traumatized Q.

As usual Q is in this crib not napping like he is supposed to be doing and I am downstairs trying to do the 5 million things I need to do while he is sleeping because that is the only time I can do them (you fellow parents know this is a sacred "golden time"). When I put Q down, I made the mistake (at this point my husband chimes in and said "I told you so, I told you so, I told you never to put him down without pants on!" -- like the little angle/devil -- he's both -- sitting on my left shoulder) of putting Q down without any pants -- he was only in a diaper, shirt, and socks. So back to my story -- I am listening, hoping to hear that lull in the noise that indicates he has finally thrown everything out of the crib, flipped, flopped, turned his music box on and off, on and off to his satisfaction and has finally decided to give in to the sleep that he was so desperately trying to avoid. Instead of that lull -- I heard a shriek and something about "poo" and "bed". I ran to the trusty video monitor (which by the way, I can't say enough good things about -- best thing we ever bought) -- and see Q standing up, backed into the corner of his crib -- cowering and whimpering and staring at something in the middle of his bed. He was also muttering something about "poo". I instantly heard Corby in the back of my head -- going on about not putting him in the bed without his pants because HE WILL TAKE HIS DIAPER OFF...

I raced up the stairs -- with visions of a horrible diarrhea mess all over the place -- that was the only thing I could envision given my luck and Q's reaction over the monitor. I could just see it -- on the stuffed animals, bedding, bumpers, Q, his hair, the crib and the smell would be horrible -- I just knew it. I reached the top and threw open the door to see him standing stiff, backed up in the corner of his crib with a sagging diaper STILL HALF ON (thank God) -- however, one hand was clutching the open tabs of the side he had opened -- trying to hold it back on and the other hand was pointing to this tiny little pebble of poo about the size of a gumball that was just casually resting directly in the middle of his bed. He was horrified! "I pooped in the bed, Momma", "Its poo, Momma". I was so relieved to see that he had manged to keep the poo laden diaper still on -- only letting a wee little fellow loose! I scooped him up and changed his diaper made a hasty clean up of the wee poo and all was well.

Phew, man that could have been bad... I get the poo accidents and Corby hands down gets thrown up on the most. Q will literally bypass me to walk over and throw up on Corby -- he had to change his clothes 3 times one night. I find it quite funny, Corby not so much.