A First: Crap in the Tub

This happened tonight.  Lovely.

Shit Happens (Happened)

We had a new first yesterday:  In the middle of trying to multitask (unsuccessfully), I took Griff's diaper overly soggy diaper off and let him run around inside.  (He had been playing in his baby pool, so his diaper was drooping so far down between his legs that you couldn't help but feel bad for the 2 little velcro straps holding on for dear life...)  I had my hands tied with dishes, filling ice cube trays with chicken noodle soup, and cutting up tomatoes for a pasta salad, when I glanced behind me and saw new puddle on the dining room floor I had just cleaned up.  Of course.  In the not even 2 minutes I let Griff run free, he peed on the floor.  The warm puddle barely phased me, but to add to the fun while I was cleaning that up, I found what I thought was a little piece of "meatball" (a thumb nail sized cut up piece of Jones all natural honey maple sausage link, the new form of protein that Griff will actually tolerate)... As you may have guessed, it was NOT a "meatball", though maybe it could have been at one point in time... What was even more funny/nasty, I found a surprise ball of poop (dry/hard, not runny thank God) on the 6 inch wide strip of hardwood floor in the living room, spaced perfectly between our rug and Griff's foam play mat.  Instead of laughing at the situation and taking pictures for the blog as per my usual process, I had a little too much going on, and I panicked and screamed "Tooooommmmmm!!!!!!", so sorry there are no pictures! :)

Poop Finger

Yes. It happened.  By the title of this post, perhaps you can figure out what completely unfortunate incident took place yesterday afternoon when I stuck my middle finger down the top back flap to check if Griffin had a poop in his diaper.  Holy crap (pun totally intended), did he have a poop!  It was warm and soupy, and covered the entire inside of his diaper, and my now my finger.  I know that's way too much information, but it was a blogworthy (and picture worthy) moment.

Like Father Like Son

Here is an excerpt from my text conversation with Tom from a few minutes ago:

At 3:07pm I texted, "On the smelly poop scale, Griff's just scored a 12. Oh my. Love you." 
Tom's response was, "Oh my indeed.  Well, I have some 12's every now and again, too. XOXO"  Then I said, "Like father like son.  Gross, I love you both a little less.  I'm a lady so I don't even poop."

Oh we are such embarrassing parents.  Don't worry Griff, when you're older, we'll tone it down... or won't we..?  Sorry in advance for all of the embarrassing comments/things I will make/do around you and your friends.

P.S. Speaking of poop, here are 3 classic pictures that we currently have hanging in our downstairs bathroom. 

Orange Poop

As many of you know, Griffin's theme color is orange.. he has an orange stroller, his room has orange accents, he wears orange almost daily, and today... even his poop made its debut in the same fabulous color. (It was from the carrots!)

The Mystery of the Lost Poop

Just a quick story that makes me laugh: The transition from breastmilk poop to solids has been funny. Texture wise, we've gone from "Nutella" to "clay". The other day I was changing Griffin's cloth diaper and there was just a tiny piece of poop. As per the usual process, I took the diaper off, set it aside, gave Griffin a toy to distract him so he wouldn't roll to the wall to repeatedly knock the family tree picture with his foot (one of these days, it's going to fall off the wall onto him), I wiped him, put a new diaper on, squeezed his little butt to make him giggle, then put him into his crib while I went to the bathroom to knock the poop piece into the toilet. Off I went, soiled diaper in hand. I got to the toilet, opened the diaper and there was no poop to be found. Omg, too funny. I lost the piece of poop. Where the heck did it go? Had I stepped on it? Did it fall on the floor? Needless to say, I had a frantic, but hilarious 15 seconds of searching. I discovered the little brown treasure on the floor under the changing table...

"Lift & Sniff"

I just love how it's become completely normal for me to lift Griffin's diapered butt right up to the tip of my nose and give it a big sniff in public. Sometimes I get lucky, the coast is clear, but other times not so much- my gag reflex engages when I sniff a little too hard.  Today, when a diaper change was obviously in order, I found myself immediately regretting having just bounced Griffin up and down on my lap like he was on a galloping horsey at the Kentucky Derby.  Thank goodness for no blowout, but man, the poop was everywhere!  Whoever said that breastmilk poop doesn't stink should "lift and sniff" again, and what the heck am I in for when he starts solids?