From the other side of the Love-child spectrum. I have discovered that there is one, just one, thing that is not to rave about in regards to the Bumbo Seat. I LOVE: how it has a small footprint (not like a bouncy seat); how her head is not leaning on anything and should give her flat spot a chance to round out; how she is sitting up before she is capable of sitting up; how she can be right smack in the middle of everything and therefore constantly entertained; how she's just as happy in the Bumbo as in a carrier so my back is feeling happyyyyyyyy.
But. When she poops, while seated in the Bumbo, the poop takes the path of least resistance and bubbles and oozes up and the over her diaper, down the outside of her pants and inside of the Bumbo. Ew.
Moving down the spectrum to the wild and woolly Thomas...yesterday was his inaugural take-the-diaper-off-during-nap-and-spread-poop-all-over-the-crib experience. Luckily for me John was the lucky one to be "on duty" this time. But I'll get my turn, never fear. The poop fates are out to get me.
One more person up the Love-child spectrum, Rosie's addition to the last 24 hour poop-tales is rather mild but for the sake of thorough reporting I'll include it. This morning I was in a rush to get out the door to an earlier mass then we usually "attend" (by which I mean wander aimlessly around outside in an effort to give other people a fighting chance at prayer). So, I recklessly took Rosie's diaper off while she was standing up and glancing inside noticed some "racing stripes". I thought it was odd but assumed that she was in the middle of doing her business when I rudely whipped off her undergarment. But after a few minutes realized that no, she had been done with her business and there it was on the floor, having fallen right out of the diaper in my haste. Ew. Lesson to glean: there is no Mass that can not be arrived at late - take poop-related duties slowly and cautiously.
After Mass today Anthony immediately visited the restroom (a regular occurrence after the victory recounted in vol. 1 of the Poop Chronicles) and afterwards went to change out of his church clothes and into his "play clothes". I told him to hang his church clothes on the row of hooks in his room because they weren't dirty and he would wear them next week. As he's changing I notice that he's changing all the way down to the underwear and saw that he had hung his underwear on the hook with his church clothes. I asked him why he had done this and he informed me that he had a little accident in the underwear but he had wiped it out.
So, my best guess is that he was planning on letting them air out for the week and put them right back on with the rest of the church clothes. Double ew.
You may think that with 4 children and 4 poop-related incidents within 24 hours we would be right on track but then you'd be wrong. It looks like the IHOP poop fates are visiting their revenge upon John now. This is why you should just stick to PANCAKES at IHOP and skip the hollandaise sauce. Unfortunately for him it's not just the poop-fates, it's also the puke-fates.
Ew and ew and ew.
Look, no one said that this blog was for the feint of heart, or stomach. Just be glad there are no accompanying pictures.