Tales of Poo

You read it right -- I said poo. Not Pooh. So, you've had your fair warning in case you don't want to read on.

Lately I've been lamenting to Dave that Tessa only poos when he's not around. And since she saves them up for days -- handling such a diaper change is no easy task. I'm talking serious BOMBS, people. Like the kind where you must respond in 2.2 seconds or it's too late. Well finally, on Saturday, Dave got what was coming to him. I had just handed her off to him when we heard the massive explosion. Dave went running off to the changing table yelling "I think it's leaking!" Sure enough, she had made an impressive shot right down one of her pantlegs. I mean the entire pantleg was covered. (I was pretty convinced that outfit had seen it's last days, but it's truly amazing what a little Baby OxyClean can do!) Anyway, a half-container of wipes later, Dave recovered nicely and we decided the only thing to do was to give her a bath immediately. Just as he prepared to hoist her into the bath seat, she simultaneously spit up and peed on him. Talk about adding insult to injury!

In other poo news... a few weeks ago, I signed up for an all-day photography class. This was Dave's first time alone with both kids for a whole day, and he did a great job. However, about an hour after getting up from his nap, Calder revealed to Dave that he had taken poop out of his diaper. When Dave asked where he put it, he said "On the floor, in my room." So, Dave ran upstairs to discover...that this child does not lie. Finally, except for rare occasions, Calder still refuses to sit on the potty. Instead, he has twice decided that bathtime is an opportune time to *ahem* go #2. Specifically, when Daddy is bathing him and Mommy is either not around or not available to help with prevention or recovery efforts.

Ok honey, I admit it. In the grand poo scheme of things, you've definitely gotten the raw end of the deal!