Those Who Do Not Learn From History Are Doomed To Repeat It

Was I smoking crack the other day? I have no memory of doing any drugs on Saturday, but apparently I must have had some sort of mind-altering substance. Otherwise, why in the hell would I write a post about three ways to know your kids are sick that went like this?:

1. The High Fever
2. The Bleary Eyes
3. The Yellow Snot

Hello?? Earth to Callie! Anyone in that brain of yours? How could I have left out diarrhea and vomit????? Those are clearly missing from the list. Sadly, they are no longer missing from our house. No vomit yet, but diarrhea? -- Check.

This afternoon, Quinn's bottom began uttering sounds that no parent wants to hear. The gurgling sounds of liquidy, bubbly gas. The smell hits almost instantly with those. That is when you know you are about to experience the worst form of poop -- The Poop Puddle. It is as if Quinn's little bottom was a miniature volcano with molten lava oozing out, dripping through his diaper and his pants, down his legs and onto the floor, hitting his socks along the way. I imagine tiny little villages of dust mites were gathering up their young and screaming while running for cover. Oh the humanity! It was one of those diapers that required an instant bath. With two cycles of fresh bathwater. We have experienced poop puddles a few times before ( and have experienced vomitting more times than I can even count), so I haven't the foggiest as to why these two lovely items were not on the previous list. Other than the whole crack-smoking theory, that is. Anyways, I have noticed that I always handle The Poop Puddle Situation in approximately the same manner:

1. Assess the damage by gently placing my hand on the child's back and turning them around so that I can look for large wet spots on their pants and liquid and/or chunks by their feet.

2. Offer a few soothing words along with a gentle back pat, making sure that my hand does not come into contact with any wetness.

3. Pick the child up by holding them with my hands under their armpits so that their legs dangle a soild 12 inches from my stomach. Try to do this is such a way so that they know I still love them and do not think of them as a lepper.

4. Transport child to the bathroom in the manner mentioned above.

5. Using only the tips of my fingers, strip off all of their offending clothing and put in a pile on the bathroom floor. Place diaper on top of pile.

6. Using a minimun of half a roll of toilet paper, wipe off as much poop as possible and throw paper into the potty. Flush after every twenty wipes or so to avoid clogging the toilet.

7. Once child is reasonably clean, fill the bath with a shallow level of water and four times the normal amount of soap. Place child in the bath and clean off remaining poop.

8. Drain brown, chunky bathwater.

9. Fill tub again and continue to clean the child's bottom, legs and feet.

10. Once a layer of skin has been scrubbed off, drain the bath and dry child off.

11. Dress the child and hope that there is not a repeat performance (which their usually is -- ever notice how diarrhea is almost never a single occurence?).

12. Again using only my fingers, pick up poop-infested clothes off the bathroom floor and transport to the washing machine. Wash clothes by themselves in the hottest water possible. Triple-bag the diaper and take outside to the trash.

13. Return to bathroom to scrun the floor for at least ten minutes.

14. Return to the orginal scene of The Poop Puddle and scrub the floor for at least ten minutes.

15. Return to washing machine and rewash clothes, just to be safe.

16. Wash my hands like a crazy person at least five times with the hottest water that I can tolerate.

17. Continue to hope for no repeat performance.

17. Keep sniffing the air and obsessively checking child's diaper, convinced that you smell Round Two.



So it has been over an hour now and so far no puddle repeats. Here's hoping! And I am throwing away my crack pipe.