“JT!!! Poop!!! I do not have time for poop. Get in this bathtub.” That’s me. The yelling mom. You see it was 7:05 in the morning. I still had to get the boy dressed, pack 2 lunches for picky girls, let the dog out so she could refuse to eliminate outside and instead hold it until she was safely in the kitchen, get the boy and I in the car and be backing down my drive at 7:13 in order to be on time for work, after dropping off at daycare. And I just discovered that JT had managed to poop and have none of it end up in the diaper, but instead have coated the backs of his thighs and calves. Wipes were not gonna cut it and at 56 degrees, it was way too cold to take the hose to him. Bathtub it was.
“Here, let me take off your shirt.” I said attempting to remove the shirt he’d been wearing since yesterday. It has minions on it. Minions are JT’s religion. Once the minion shirt touches his body, it takes an act of congress to get it off and we all know how effective they are. He refused to put pajamas on last night. I let him sleep in the shirt. And now it was a battle that had to be picked. He pushed my hands away and said “no.” I said “We need to take your shirt off to get clean for school. If you wear the same clothes every day, they will revoke my mommy license and then I have to take the classes all over again.”
“NOOOOOOOOO. “ He pushed my hands away. And stomped his feet. 7:07. “Alrighty then JT, in you go.” I placed him in the tub and turned on the water. I removed the apparently pointless diaper which had about ¼ of the amount of poop that had ended up on his legs. He turned his back to the faucet and began wailing and trying to climb the back wall as the acid poured from the faucet into the tub. He frantically tried to put his feet up on the sides of the tub as the toxic liquid creeped ever closer to his delicate porcelain skin, and screamed desperately for Abbey to come save him. “Abbey, Abbey!!!” Abbey peeked groggily into the bathroom, saw the poop, smelled the poop and ducked right back out.
I stuck my hand in the water, not too hot, and surprisingly came out with all my skin intact. This was no time to reason with the toddler to persaud him to sit down. I grabbed a cup and started tossing water in the general direction of his legs and nether regions. And a game of water dodgeball ensued. I splashed water towards him, he did his best to dodge it. I finally poured some soap in my hands and lathered him up, and rinsed him off. All clean. At this point he stopped screaming and smiled at me. I offered a towel and to help him out. He ignored both and scampered out of the tub and sprinted down the hall. 7:10
“Girls, I’m gonna need your help with lunches today.” Ignoring the groans coming from downstairs and the mutters of “irresponsible woman, what does she think we are slaves?” And “God, I was watching tv, I don’t have time for this.” I counted to 10 slowly and carried the wet, half naked toddler to his room. I counted out loud for his benefit and managed to get diaper, pants, socks, shoes on the boy. Now for the shirt. It had to be changed. He wore it yesterday. It is green and has minions on it. People will notice if it’s on him again.
Our eyes met. He knew in an instant what was coming. I held up 3 shirts. One with a truck. One with a monkey. One with a train. “JT, which shirt would you like?”
“No shirt, no shirt, MEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” and he began thrashing about on the floor. I placed one leg on each side of his head and quickly whipped the minion shirt off his head. He lay there, stunned into silence at my deft movement. He patted his bare chest in disbelief. I held up the shirts again. He smiled and said, “choo choo.” Great. Threw the shirt on his body, and we headed for the door. 7:12.
Crap. I forgot to grab my phone from upstairs. I sprint back up the stairs, step into my room and discover that all the poop wasn’t just coating his legs.
SUNUVA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Guess I’m washing sheets and blankets today.
“Here, let me take off your shirt.” I said attempting to remove the shirt he’d been wearing since yesterday. It has minions on it. Minions are JT’s religion. Once the minion shirt touches his body, it takes an act of congress to get it off and we all know how effective they are. He refused to put pajamas on last night. I let him sleep in the shirt. And now it was a battle that had to be picked. He pushed my hands away and said “no.” I said “We need to take your shirt off to get clean for school. If you wear the same clothes every day, they will revoke my mommy license and then I have to take the classes all over again.”
“NOOOOOOOOO. “ He pushed my hands away. And stomped his feet. 7:07. “Alrighty then JT, in you go.” I placed him in the tub and turned on the water. I removed the apparently pointless diaper which had about ¼ of the amount of poop that had ended up on his legs. He turned his back to the faucet and began wailing and trying to climb the back wall as the acid poured from the faucet into the tub. He frantically tried to put his feet up on the sides of the tub as the toxic liquid creeped ever closer to his delicate porcelain skin, and screamed desperately for Abbey to come save him. “Abbey, Abbey!!!” Abbey peeked groggily into the bathroom, saw the poop, smelled the poop and ducked right back out.
I stuck my hand in the water, not too hot, and surprisingly came out with all my skin intact. This was no time to reason with the toddler to persaud him to sit down. I grabbed a cup and started tossing water in the general direction of his legs and nether regions. And a game of water dodgeball ensued. I splashed water towards him, he did his best to dodge it. I finally poured some soap in my hands and lathered him up, and rinsed him off. All clean. At this point he stopped screaming and smiled at me. I offered a towel and to help him out. He ignored both and scampered out of the tub and sprinted down the hall. 7:10
“Girls, I’m gonna need your help with lunches today.” Ignoring the groans coming from downstairs and the mutters of “irresponsible woman, what does she think we are slaves?” And “God, I was watching tv, I don’t have time for this.” I counted to 10 slowly and carried the wet, half naked toddler to his room. I counted out loud for his benefit and managed to get diaper, pants, socks, shoes on the boy. Now for the shirt. It had to be changed. He wore it yesterday. It is green and has minions on it. People will notice if it’s on him again.
Our eyes met. He knew in an instant what was coming. I held up 3 shirts. One with a truck. One with a monkey. One with a train. “JT, which shirt would you like?”
“No shirt, no shirt, MEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” and he began thrashing about on the floor. I placed one leg on each side of his head and quickly whipped the minion shirt off his head. He lay there, stunned into silence at my deft movement. He patted his bare chest in disbelief. I held up the shirts again. He smiled and said, “choo choo.” Great. Threw the shirt on his body, and we headed for the door. 7:12.
Crap. I forgot to grab my phone from upstairs. I sprint back up the stairs, step into my room and discover that all the poop wasn’t just coating his legs.
SUNUVA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Guess I’m washing sheets and blankets today.
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