A few mornings ago I woke up at my normal time, showered and began dressing. Just as I finished putting my shirt in place, there was a frantic and panicked, "Mooooooommmmm!" from a younger female resident, who is flying down the stairs.
Seeing as I am rather undramatic by nature (I don't know why God did not see fit to pass on this trait, but that is not for today), I simply responded, "yes?"
J quickly informed me, while out of breath and with bulging eye-balls, that S had poop all over her hand, her belly, her crib, and was putting her hand in her mouth.
Oh goody. Good morning, my busy household! Now, S did something similar a few days prior after her lunch, but I had hoped she might have been cured seeing as she gagged on her poopy fingers...apparently not.
"OK, I'm coming. I am going to hang up my towel and then I will be right there." Upstairs I hear a very earnest reassurance to T, by J, that I will be right upstairs.
As I climb the stairs the situation greets my nose first. So I hasten to begin the removal of the stench.
Seriously, how do you get a child, who can stand, out of a crib without being touched by their hands? I am fairly certain it isn't possible! Then it becomes a question of strategic planning as to how to clean so that one does not actually mess more areas up than were already soiled...First step: wash the child's back and hands. Second: lay them down...so on and so forth.
I cleaned up the mess and decided that this incidence should not be repeated, if at all possible.
So, I took the opportunity of my mom coming to visit that day to go and find many 24 month onesies at the second-hand store.
S is very sad to have 'lost' her belly, which was one of her first words, but I am very pleased to have 'locked' up the poop.
And as an added bonus she now eats her meals with a shirt on! (she was a pro at undressing at the most opportune moments)