Saturday, March 26, 2011

Potty training, day 6

I took Isaac and Melissa to Momak's burgers after dropping Matthew off at a birthday party. Momak's has a huge outdoor play area, with two jungle gyms and a field.

This wasn't the first time we've taken Isaac somewhere in training pants. I took him to walmart just this morning, in fact. He's not great about telling us when he needs to go, but we just remind him every hour or so and that keeps accidents to a minimum. Still, I set out with an extra set of training pants and shorts, just in case.

We got our food. The kids didn't eat, of course. I don't know why I bother buying anything but a drink for them. The definition of insanity, after all. But the kids played and drank their lemonade and I ate my burger.

It was time for a pit stop. I scooped up Isaac and hustled him over to the bathroom. I took off one shoe so I could get his pants off, and only then discovered that he had done a number two in his shorts. (Rachel informs me this is his first accident with poop.)

Fortunately I'd parked right next to the door by the bathroom. I put him on the toilet to do his number one and ran for the car to get the emergency back up pants and the just-in-case baby wipes. I got back and he was still playing with the lock on the bathroom stall -- perfect.

I got him cleaned up and put the soiled shorts in the car. The training pants I threw out.

Now, if this were the end of the story, it might not have gotten a write up; the bar for poop notoriety is pretty high after Matthew and Melissa. But we went back out to play; I started showing Melissa how to kick a soccer ball with some semblance of accuracy (she's been to two soccer practices but you wouldn't know it) and had to stop because Isaac was jealous. He didn't want to play too; he just didn't want us playing.

So I took them back to our table for one last try at eating before we left. I'd just given up when Melissa informed me that "something smells awful! Really, really bad!" Whatever. Melissa was always full of emergencies real and imagined. But as we headed out Isaac grabbed at his butt. Uh-oh. "Tu dois aller au VC?" [Do you need to go to the bathroom?] He nodded. We headed over, and this time I checked his pants before taking them off. Full of poop: great.

Back to the car, got the wipes, cleaned up the mess, threw away another pair of training pants. There was some poop absorbed by the shorts too, so I picked him up and carried him butt-naked to the car, where he rode home in pantsless glory.

Then I gave him a bath, because no matter how many times I told him, "Touche à rien! Fais pas ça!" [don't touch anything! stop that!] he kept smearing whatever poop he could grab off his butt on his shirt, his arms, the floor, me, anything he could reach. "Duck," [yuck] he decalred, but that didn't stop him.

Now Rachel is back from picking up Matthew. (Birthday party, remember?) So it's my turn to get clean.


the paul said...

Ahh, the golden days of the Savage Peanut.

Rachel Ellis said...

Like you said Jon "all bets are off when your 2 year old has diarrhea."

From the archives, this gem.

Jonathan Ellis said...

"A Chernobyl of poop." Indeed.