Silly Mom Thoughts: Oh the poo-manity.

Oh the poo-manity.

I have decided that God is a funny, funny guy. I mean, He does knee slappingly hilarious stuff like make rock formations look like dangle-y man parts and just about anything else look like boobs.

And he gave me Bean.

Oh, my little poop loving Bean.

Maybe poop "loving" is a bit excessive. Let's say she's more poop "interested." If you're a regular follower of my blog, you'll remember a little poo story about Bean oooh, about a year ago. Then there were more recent poo stories.

And I have a new one for ya. (You know you're excited!)

It all started on Wednesday night with a lot of nakedness. I was naked, the babies were naked, Bean was, you guessed it: naked.

Hold on, I need to back up to give you the full awfulness of this situation. Sunday night, Turk and I tucked the kids in, said prayers, turned off the lights, and breathed a huge sigh of relief as we closed their bedroom door.

Aaahhh, the wonderful click of the door signaling the start of bedtime.

Bean and Bug played for a bit, like they normally do before they conk out, but for some reason I decided to check on them. Call it Mommy instinct. Call it knowing that my daughter hadn't pooped all day and was surely going to soon.

I opened the door of their bedroom and my nostrils were immediately inundated with the not-so savory aroma of feces. And there, on the top bunk, was my little poop princess, diarrhea doo all over her hands.

All. Over. Her. Hands.

"Eww!" she said, lifting her hands to show me.

I took in a deep breath, calmly coaxed her down from the bunk, carried her as far from my body as I could and placed her, fully clothed, in the bathtub. I found Turk and smirked, "The bathtub is all you."

I re-entered the bedroom, sanitizing wipes in hand, peeled away poo-streaked covers, scrubbed down bed rails coated in dung. I grinned to myself only for the fact that I knew it was going to make a great blog.

Fast forward to Wednesday night where we were all naked.

Both of the twins were inconsolably crying. Their bellies were full, they were changed, burped, held, pacified, everything, but they were still beside themselves.

"S.O.S. I'm going down!" I texted Turk.

"Down where?" he texted back.

I dialed his number and all he could hear on his end were the eardrum-shattering screams of our babies.

"Ooooh," he said. "I'll be home as soon as I can."

(That, right there, is a good man.)

Having run through all of the mommy tricks I could think of to console my babies, I decided my last resort was to get into a warm bath with them. So I stripped all of us, ran a bath, and carefully sat in the tub with them. My plan was to stay there until Turk got home from work, since getting out of a bath with wet babies was not the safest idea.

Like magic, the babies stopped crying the second we got into the water. Better yet, Bean came into the bathroom and entertained them from outside of the bath by playing peek-a-boo and other silly big sister games. The babies were eating it up, giggling, smiling, cooing. I felt pretty dog-gone smart!

The babies were having so much fun, in fact, Bean decided that she wanted to join us in the tub and stripped herself down too.

"Baby girl," I said, "There's no room in here right now, but you can come in as soon as Daddy gets home."

Surprisingly, she didn't throw a fit and instead left the bathroom to find her brother (who was watching The Simpsons. You know, because I am an amazing mother like that).

She came back in a while later and I could smell a little... something.

"Bean, did you toot?"

"Oot!" she smiled and placed her hand over her mouth.

"Baby girl, do you need to sit on the potty?"

"Noooo," she shook her head.

I looked down at her leg and saw little flecks of brown on her inner thighs.

"Bean, did you poo poo in the kitchen?"

"Titch-in!" she exclaimed.

That was no help. My poo-dar started going rapid fire.

I smelled a little something more, peeked over the edge of the tub and saw that she was pooping on the towel she was standing over.

"Oooh, baby, let's sit on the potty!" I said excitedly, making it sound like pooping on the potty was the coolest thing since Little Einsteins.

To my astonishment, she complied. So, with crap oozed all the way down her leg, she hoisted herself onto the potty, thus smearing it all over the toilet seat. Of course, to stabilize herself, she had to place her hands on said soiled potty seat, and therefore smeared poop all over her hands as well.

But she was sitting on the potty!

"Good girl, Bean!" I beamed. "You're such a big girl, sitting on the potty!"

Ignore the poop. Ignore the poop. I willed myself.

At this point, I realized Turk wasn't going to be home soon enough, so I carefully maneuvered the babies and me out of the tub. It was perilous for a second, when I slipped a bit on the bathroom floor, but thankfully I didn't fall and rested my naked boys on my bed. Y immediately peed, but after dealing with crap, pee is no biggie.

Back to Bean, I cleaned her off, put her in the shower, cleaned the toilet, and everything was fine.

Turk came home and told me to get out of the house, take a break, do whatever I wanted while he took over the kids. Seriously, what a man!

So, the last poo story really wasn't Bean's fault, but it was funny and gross all at the same time. Funross. It's a new word. Tell your friends.

That seals it... Between Bean and her poo and the babies and their spew I have now been forced me to add a new blog category: bodily functions.

Photo Credit: Toilet paper 3 by Wax 115 and Sepia Child Series 2 by jynmeyer
Source: sxc.hu