I came home from work today to experience the nastiest diaper change of my life. There I was, holding my cute baby on my lap next to while Wes and I scoured the Curry in a Hurry menu on his laptop, when out of no where, Holden (who mind you had already had his messy diaper for the day) sharted. If you don’t know the definition of the term shart, don’t look it up. It’s pretty graphic.
Anyway, it was so loud that it startled me and I panicked, thinking I should probably change him asap…….something about the way it sounded like big rocks falling into a lake……Oh boy. I put him on the changing table and runny, messy, breast-fed poop had managed to get all the way down his pants into his socks! It was sticky like honey and of similar hue. Gross! I made Wes come and watch because I couldn’t endure the experience alone. He came in and we worked together in undressing him in such a way where we would get as little of the offending excrement on us. I thought we were so successful, holding out his soiled onesie with our thumb and forefingers…..until…….I……..looked……down. My cute gray velour sweat pants had runny, sticky poop all the way down the left leg. Sick sick sick. I started screaming and Wes started laughing hysterically while begging me not to get it on the floor (because of course at this point it had been running down my leg for a while without my notice and was nearing the ground). Wow it was so gross I am really looking forward to the day he can take care of his business without me.
When does potty training start?