I look to my right and see Quinn holding something brown. My brain worked very slowly-- "Hey that's brown- she doesn't have any toys that color. Is that a piece of the bathtub or the wall or something? Dang, is our bathtub falling apart? Wait, no, she just squished it. OH. MY. GOSH. THAT. IS. POO.
And then everything started moving in fast forward. I pulled Quinn out of the tub, quickly noticing the other pieces (that she, thankfully, hadn't been playing with), wrapped her in a towel and set her on the floor- with strict instructions not to move (ha ha). Then I ran for the bleach and after draining the tub and washing down all the 'particles' I refilled the tub with HOT water and dumped in some bleach. Then I took Quinn into the kitchen and filled up the sink with some warm water. Then I proceeded to bathe her while she clung to my shirt- she did NOT appreciate the spur-of-the-moment sink bath. To make matters worse- the hot water that I had used to disinfect the tub, had completely drained our hot water tank. SO, I had to rinse Quinn off using water that was slightly warmer than glacier runoff. By this time, she was screaming at the top of her lungs, and I was..... well, wishing the whole fiasco was over with (to put it mildly).
There is a happy ending to this story, though. We dressed her in the warmth of her bedroom (where the heater still had things nice and toasty from the previous night), and she eventually stopped shivering in the comfort of momma's arms, AND (blessing of all blessings) I don't have to worry about changing a poopy diaper for the rest of the day. :)
Ahhh, motherhood- when is my day off?
Monday, June 14, 2010
Poo in the bathtub
No, I am not talking about the cuddley bear with the honey pot, who is friends with the pig and the tiger. I'm talking about that other kind of poo- the kind NOBODY wants in the bathtub, or anywhere- other than the toilet. Just minutes after my last post, Quinn woke up. I decided to go ahead and give her a bath because playing in the park yesterday had left her with dirt under her fingernails and in her ears (weird, I know). So while Quinn happily played in the water, I sat by the side of the tub daydreaming about a time when "bathtime" would consist of 5 minutes in the shower, when suddenly