Poopy Pants   3 comments

**Disclaimer— this blog post is primarily about poop.

As a teenager, I LOVED to babysit. I loved ordering pizza and feasting with the kids (my favorite was the kid who told me he could only have 3 pieces of pizza ’cause he was on a diet!). I loved getting them ready for bed and tucking them in. I loved lounging on someone else’s couch watching TV while falling asleep only to jerk back to consciousness at the sound of an opening garage door. I loved the money. One night of babysitting meant I could go buy a new box of hair color AND some new nail polish. Ah, disposable income!! There are only a couple of things that I didn’t like about babysitting:

  1. When the dad would drive me home at the end of the night. Why-oh-why did the dad have to drive the 14-year-old girl home?! I would stare straight ahead, nervous and replying with monosylabolic mumblings to questions such as “So, were the kids good?” and “Should I turn left here?”
  2. Poopy diapers. I hated poopy diapers. One time, I called my mom from the home of a particulary stinky pooper and explained that there was NO WAY I could change the kid  saying “Mom, I’m going to throw up! I cannot change this diaper!”

Thankfully, my mom came to the house and changed the toddler’s diaper for me, but that night scared me. I feared that when I had my own child I would be unable to change his or her poopy diaper. This past spring, I learned that there was nothing to worry about. Apparently there is some truth to the saying “It’s different when it’s your child” because Millie’s early poops just didn’t bother me at all. I found I could change poopy diapers without batting an eye or experiencing a gag reflux. That is, until this weekend. On Saturday, Millie was hanging out in the exersaucer when I started to hear the tell-tale grunt of a baby who was filling her diaper. I waited for the grunts to subside and then went to the business of cleaning her up thinking it was just another dirty diaper. Boy was I wrong. I’ll try not to get too gross here, but I must say that the waste in her diaper was green in color and crazy-stinky. It was up her back and all over her pajamas. And THAT is what really bothered me. She was wearing the cutest pajamas (a gift from her Great Uncle Clint) and I was heartbroken at the thought of them being ruined.

See how cute she looks in them? Nate told me to just throw them away after the blow-out incident, but I just couldn’t. I kept thinking, what if we have another daughter some day? I’d love a picture of her in the same pajamas. Then, I could put the pictures side by side and compare my girls. (No, we’re not expecting another baby girl and no, we don’t plan to expand our family anytime soon.) So, with this thought about someday having another baby and the idea of an adorable picture of this future baby in my mind, I decided to try to save the poopy pants. I filled a bucket with water and soaked the pajamas. Then, I used a spray bottle to remove as much of the green, stinky, disgusting poop as possible. Then, I let them soak in water yet again before pre-treating the stain with detergent. Finally, I put the pajamas in the wash. GREAT NEWS— the poop stain came out. Now, Millie can wear this sleeper a few more times before she grows out of it and I put it into storage pending a future baby.

After all that effort, who wants to bet we end up with a baby boy the next go around and I will have put so much effort into poop removal for nothing? Who bets I’ll just end up putting Future Baby Boy Keyse in these PJ’s for a quick photo-op? Of course, it’s just as likely I’ll misplace the PJ’s in the years to come and won’t be able to find them for baby #2…

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Posted September 27, 2011 by Nate and Julie in Millie

3 responses to “Poopy Pants

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  1. I recall a very similar incident with her father. Except he and I were both covered. Must be hereditary, they say it runs in your jeans!

  2. You are way to funny my dear. LOL

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