Bath Toots
You'll soon see why this portion of “Our First Emergency Room Trip” needed its own blog post.
As Way gets older, we see little layers of her personality shine through. She is such a happy, strong, silly girl. As a 31 year old honest woman, I can admit that toilet humor is STILL funny. I can't explain it. Toilets, poop, it's all funny. If a well-timed fart (at any age) doesn't at least crack a smile, you're not living life!
Waylin habitually laughs after she toots. I really don't know where she learned that behavior. Ben and I have been married for almost 3 years (gah!), and we STILL don't pass gas in front of each other. I don't know if that's a world record, but we will see how long this shred of decency lasts! We have peed with the door open though! #babysteps 😁
For the record, water toots > regular toots. 😂 #ahoy
Waylin had a masterful symphony of water toots during her cool bath. She giggled so loud, and we were laughing together. And before the laughing could die down, she had tooted again underwater. Repeat, repeat, repeat. I bet we sounded like two ole biddies in a tea room! ☕
I took this picture because I have been loving how her hair has started curling at the bottom! She was playing with her bath toys when...all of a sudden, I see...
💩 LITTLE BABY TURDS EVERYWHERE!💩
Oh my god. Those were NOT water toots!
WHAT IS THE PROTOCOL FOR THIS?
No seriously, what is the protocol? LOL
I figured I better get the baby out first (hah!) We get her out, cleaned up (with an extra rinse just in case lol), and ready for bedtime. I brought her into the bedroom where Ben was trying to add his hours to his first online timesheet. While he was intently looking at his phone, I told him what just happened and that he needed to watch her while I clean it up. He hardly raised an eyebrow and said, "I have to finish putting in my time." Did you just envision my hands going straight to my hips? Because they did! I looked at him for a couple of seconds and said, "Ben...there are little baby turds floating around the T-U-B!" Why was he not as shocked as me? LOL...either way, he agreed.
I stood in front of the bathtub for a good minute pondering what my plan of attack was going to be. Did this job require utensils? I didn't think Ben would be happy if I just let the water out of the tub and send the little baby poops down the drain. So, I grabbed some paper towels and tried to fashion a paper towel hammock to scoop the poop out of the water. It felt like I was fishing with soggy hotdogs (that's a thing, ya'll). Of course, paper towels didn't work!
I grabbed the nearest wash cloth. This guy had lived a long life and probably needed to be retired as a "garage rag" by now. That didn't work. I was basically chasing turds around the bathtub with a raggedy piece of fabric. #rip 💀
And that's about the moment that I realized there is really only one more option that I hadn't tried yet: my last option (aka my own two hands).
THIS. IS. MOTHERHOOD.
One by one, I re-homed those little poops into the toilet...their rightful resting place. LORD...the things we do. 🤣 Afterwards, I realized her toys needed to be sanitized too. I scrubbed the bath tub down good. No poo in sight!
I clean up everything...oh, and if it needs to be mentioned, I washed my hands repetitively between all of the steps above and several times after everything was said and done. I'm no germophobe, but...it's p-o-o-p...that h-e-l-d by my hands. 😂 I finally emerge from the bathroom...a changed woman that's for sure! I walk into the bedroom to see this:
The two of them were having a good time reading a book while I was fishing for balls of poop. *head shaking* I stood there just looking at them like..."you have no idea what I just had to do." I told Ben about the trials and tribulations that I experienced in the hallway bathroom for the past 20 minutes. He looked up at me and said, "you do know that the shower and toilet drain to the same drain, right?" I said, "Is this a TRICK QUESTION?
So many lessons learned that night: The electrifying power of her holding our hands, the beauty of letting our baby go barefoot once in awhile to feel nature, and the fear-crippling event of poo in the loo. All in the same experience of going to the emergency room!
The consensus has changed: water toots < land toots 👍
