Thursday, June 27


Literally.  And I mean literally.

So today was one of those "oh-I-guess-we'll-just-chalk-this-up-as-a-learning-experience-and-move-on-with-life-but-only-after-we've-showered-three-times" sort of days.

Here's the skuttlebutt: Sol was out of diapers.  For the record, I was planning on buying some more this evening.  Okay, she wasn't completely out... I always have plenty of spares in her diaper bag(s) on the main floor of our house.  I woke her up this morning, then spent about 10 minutes trying to decide what Miss Sol-chop was going to wear today (which, ultimately, was about 10 minutes too long).  We went with a fabulous tank top dotted with whales, with coordinating pink shorts and her ubercute new Top-siders (omg, loooove).  Still in her pajamas, I laid her on the changing table and got to work changing the Chop.  Took off the dirty diaper, threw it away, and reached down to the diaper drawer...

Foiled.  Drat.  No diapers.  I set a jabbering Sol on the floor, as naked as the day I met her, and I ran downstairs to grab some more diapers from my 'emergency stock' in her diaper bag.  Which took all of 15 seconds, max.  What could go wrong?

Oh ye famous last words.

And the second I turned around to go back upstairs, I stopped.  Sol was no longer jabbering.  It was that moment when, as a parent, your heart drops and you know that this silence-- this rare, fleeting lack of noise-- is NOT GOOD.  It was that moment of fear.  Not fear for the child's health or safety, necessarily.  It's a fear that something terrible has happened, and you're about to walk into a disaster, effectively taking about 30 mins of your day and throwing them right out the window.

I placed one foot in front of the other and climbed the stairs slowly, walking the Green Mile to the consequences of my decision to run downstairs with a nude toddler at the top of the stairs.  And that's when I could smell it.  Something HAD indeed gone terribly wrong, and at that moment I was officially resigned to the fact that I was going to be late for work.
Only possible caption:
"What NOT to do."

Not only had my beautiful little angel taken the world's largest dump on my bedroom floor, but she thought it would be PRET-TY cool to roll around in it, to smear it into the carpeting, and finally to parade her beloved pink luvvie through the excrement.  With a shriek of terror, I ran across the hall to start running the bath water.  I grabbed my daughter and plopped her in the tub, dousing her with buckets of clean water as my blood boiled and my heart pounded in anger.  I was furious at myself, at my decision to leave a naked toddler alone, even for just a few seconds.

As I scrubbed my bedroom carpeting with that superhuman strength that only comes when one is angry, frustrated, and 10 minutes late for work, I could hear Sol jabbering again in the bathtub.  And just like that, every smidgen of "I-hate-being-a-mom" disappeared; the anger and frustration were swept away with the sounds of a jolly, poop-covered baby exercising her vocal chords in the loo.  So I grabbed my freshly-bathed babe and towel-dried her.  I did NOT allow her to run free sans diaper; I set her on the changing table right quick, slapped some Huggies on that bottom, and got her dressed.  I set her down and [of course] she toddled over to her crap-covered pink luvvie and HUGGED IT.  Now... I don't know exactly what my response would be if my daughter were hugging a honey badger, but I imagine it would be the same deal as what I did with this poor pink bunny.  Ripped that luvvie out of her hands and flung it into the bathroom.  I wiped her off and glanced back apologetically at her poor luvvie laying there, violated and desperately awaiting a thorough rinsing before heading straight into the laundry basket.  So I shoved a stuffed singing lamb into the arms of my wailing child, who didn't understand why I had snatched her pink bunny away, and finally got into the car to begin our day.

And that, my friends, is the story of a crappy morning.

Lesson learned: Never leave a toddler alone and naked.  Fashion a loincloth out of something-- anything-- and continue with your duties.  Babies wear diapers for a reason, yo.

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