Ashlyn & Caedance were enjoying some much needed playtime in the family room. They had invented a game where they would pull off the cushions of the Big Chair and pile them on the floor, stand on the chair and then fling themselves onto the pile with a heartfelt squeal of "WEE!" They could do it for hours and not get tired of it.
On this particular day, I took advantage of their preoccupation and was tackling cleaning duty in the kitchen. After a few minutes, it occurred to me that I should probably check on them...you know..just in case. Walking into the family room, the first thing that stopped me was the mess around Caedance's mouth. What was that? Mental images were passing quickly through my mind; a mental "Mom Check" for what that smeared mess could be. Lunch? No. Candy? No.
My eyes then shifted to the chair they had been playing on. It too was splotched with the same stuff. WHY would the mess be there too? What could she have gotten into? More Mom Check. Crayons? (No, they'd lost crayon privileges due to a Picasso incident that had happened a few days previously). What could it be?
Finally my nose tuned into the drama. And I smelled it. Poop. Who pooped? Then, I got it. Belatedly putting the pieces together. A light bulb. Oh!......Ohhhhhhhh. Two and two equals poo, my friends. I then noticed the lovely mess coming out of Caedance's diaper and leaking all over her shirt, her hands, my furniture. (I didn't want to even THINK about the mess on her face, so I'm just letting that one go).
"Mi-Nommy, I poop". Ya think?
"Yes dear. So I see." (and smell...oh...yuck).
The clean up on her was extensive. And gross. But after a lot of wipes and a slathering of lotion, she was
a-okay again. Clothes were whisked away to be scalded in hot water with lots of baking soda added in.
Then I moved on to the furniture. Oh...my furniture. Poop. Who would ever guess that the stuff is so very much like glue and paint at the same time? It was reluctant to leave the fabric to which it was clinging, and it tried to dye the upholstery there as well. It took elbow grease, shoulder grease, and probably knee grease to get it "cleaned". Although, despite my best efforts, there were still ever-so-faint marks on it.
And so that was the drama. For that particular day. I remember Caedance being tickled pink because she was allowed to run around in her "diddies" (diaper), which was her preferred state of attire at that age. She scuttled around happily, free, and (one would imagine) feeling a bit lighter. And I found myself thinking about inventing a new type of "Training Pants" that were literally pants with feet attached (and possibly suspenders) so that little "events" like this ceased to occur.
And for the furniture......
As soon as they were officially potty trained, we chucked those pieces and purchased a new set for the family room. Microfiber.