When i was pregnant, everyone had a story to tell about what there baby did at one time or another. Or what i am "in store for". i heard the story about how when Mommy came to babys room one morning to discover he had tried finger painting with his own poop. "Ew" i would say, and in reply i would get a "you wait, it will happen to you to".


The other morning. Thankfully one of my days off. i woke to Vincent crying and talking and calling "mama" like he does every morning, i stumble out of bed, go to the bathroom and brush my teeth. As i am walking to Vincents room i hear him calling, i open the door and am over taken by the strong smell of shit, the closer i get to the crib the more i can see "that shit".... is my baby. Somehow that morning between the time he woke up and the time i came in the room he had taken his diaper off and played in his own poop. He was covered in it. [[a visual- think of leaving a one year old in a room with a bowl of chocolate cake batter for about 30 minutes, that's what Vincent looked like, except the cake batter was poop]]. It was so gross, i grabbed him from the bed while praying at the same time that he please god didn't eat any of it. Went to the bathroom and turned the shower on. Somehow i managed to get him clean. I swear, poop was on ever single item that was in his crib, i washed all the sheets and stuffed animals twice. i really hope this never happens again.Now i try to remember to put night pants on him when he goes to bed.

Labels: poop