He streaks past me and I catch a quick whiff. I start to pray - please let it be bright enough that I can find it this time. The worst is when its camouflaged by the carpet. Is that it? Over there in the corner?? Nope. Where is it? The stages of hope start: Hopefully its more water less solid. Hopefully its just in this room. Hopefully its just upstairs. Later for hopes - focus on the search...
Eyes and ears are on full alert. The culprit - chilling. Playing with toys and having a grand ole time. Me!??! Stressed. Its too hot not to find it. Can you imagine the smell!?!? Gotta find it. No choice. Focus.
There it is - yellow, brown, with a slight tinge of orange. Its a small spot near the wall. Not so bad. Get out the rug spray this will be easy... wait. I should retrace his footsteps... dang a bigger spot but manageable. A little further - the motherload.
Why did I think 'naked time' would be good? Why don't we have all wood floors so this can be an easy clean up? Why couldn't this be the nice hard solid poo? Why did I think that corn and beans for dinner last night was a good idea!??!?! I scoop it up. Its lesson time. I take it to him and say - "poopoo goes in the potty." we walk to the potty and drop the poo inside *blank stare* I know he understands me. This is a battle of wills. I'm in it for the long haul and will win - clearly he doesn't know who he's dealing with! hmph.
He's looking at me crazy - almost with a smirk. I look down... is that!?!? on his!?! what in the world?!?! Yup. Poo. down his legs, on his ankles, and between his toes. Really!??!! Gotta get to the tub - and end this tomfoolery right now. He's snatched up and dumped into the tub. scrub.scrub.scrub. This is ri-damn-diculous. He's still smiling - always the clown. Nothing phases him. Towel dry, new diaper (no more training today mommy's d.o.n.e.), and new clothes. We cleared this hurdle. I done gone and worked up a thirst.
Walk down the stairs to get a drink. Hit the last step, turn the corner. Stop. Look. Grumble. Not one, not two, but three neatly formed doodie piles right by the play table. All gleaming in the Georgia sun. Why did I let him go downstairs??? Don't beat yourself up - this is not your fault... this is not your fault! Deep breath. Start again. Get the the rug cleaner and scrub brush. Spritz, Spritz, Spritz, Scrub scrub scrub. Finish it off with some Febreeze.
Look at the clock - it's 9:37am and I am literally pooped.
