Uh-oh. Raisins.

I will start by saying that the nursery has in recent times found itself peppered in raisins due to a few snack-time mishaps. I never end up finding them all on the first go and certainly not before a few get mashed into the rug. Or onto the bottom of the infamous blue shoes. It's not entirely beyond the pale to find a pressed raisin inside a book days later.

Therefore, I wasn't terribly surprised to hear someone saying, "Uh-oh. Raisins." when I walked into the nursery just prior to lunch today.

My guys were even pointing at the "raisins", so it really cut down on the guesswork of having to find them.

Which was very thoughtful really.

Because those "raisins" they were so keen on showing me were most definitely *not* raisins.

To be fair what I found might have started out as raisins at one point – like maybe yesterday since we all ate raisins – except today's findings were more like the bi-product of yesterday's snacks if you catch my drift.

Uh-oh raisins, indeed. 

• • • • • • •

As you might already know, I've been a bit of a cloth diaper enthusiast. By the time my babies weighed 7 lbs. (or close enough for the newborn stash I'd bought to actually fit) it was game on. My main reasons were not the most altruistic - to be honest, it was mostly about saving money. And cloth did that for us. It was a huge money saver. Sticking my hands in a bucket of poopy water every other day wasn't the most fun thing I've ever done, but it didn't really bother me. I even weathered through a few weeks 2 summers ago without a dryer and a washer that was on it's last legs and at the time I felt like I managed it rather well, despite my frustration over our busted appliances.

Cloth was definitely the ticket for us for the first 18 odd months.

During that time, we never had a single diaper blow out. I have no amusing stories to tell about poop that shot across the room due to a gaping leg-hole. A wool soaker took care of things when it was clear the boys needed a little extra coverage for overnight pee.

But then a few things changed around the 18 month mark.

We suddenly had some major leaks which resulted in some fully soaked pants even on surprisingly short outings. I wondered if it was the diapers – or rather diaper build-up since my washer was not the best even after it was fixed. In the interim we tried out some disposables. To be fair, we had some leaks with those as well and again on surprisingly short outings (less than 2 hours), but they overall did a better job and after experimenting with a few different brands the problem seemed to sort itself out. I was now 100% on the sposie bandwagon for outings. No regrets.

Of course, our cloth overnight solutions were suddenly failing around this time as well, so disposable overnight diapers it was – and has been ever since. Also no regrets.

I thought I had everything back on track. Disposables for outings and overnight and cloth the rest of the time. It was a great plan until at least a month or so ago. 

• • • • • • •

And here is the part where I admit today was not the first time we've had an "Uh-oh. Raisins." moment while my boys were wearing cloth.

It's actually the second time.

Only a few select people heard about the first incident for reasons that will become obvious, although I *did* take a picture so I at least thought even at the time that it might be something I would mention here at some point.

And I guess that time is now because for the first time I'm second-guessing the cloth love. Surprisingly, it was those few dried turds on the floor today that may have finally pushed me over the edge and not the horrorshow of embarrassment I'm about to share.

Go figure.

Since I imagine you are on tenterhooks at this point, this is the the true story of what happened – the story that up until now I've typically referred to as "The Incident" in closed circles. 

• • • • • • •

The boys and I were getting ready to head out. This included a diaper change, but before I even had a chance to pull out the goods I heard:

"Uh-oh".

And there was Seth pointing at something on the floor (and fortunately it was actually on the floor and not the nursery carpet). Unlike the "raisins" incident it was immediately obvious that it was poop and rather soft poop at that.

I must have stood there for a full minute with a dumbfounded look on my face while various improbable scenarios went through my head.

Everyone still had pants on, so how did a rogue poop end up on the floor? I briefly contemplated the possibility that someone had managed to drop their trousers, take a quick floor poop and somehow managed to not only pull their pants back up but also do up all the snaps on their diaper. That would be a pretty incredible feat you'd have to admit.

But of course that's not what happened.

There was really only one possibility with everyone still wearing their pants: poop escaped the diaper, shuffled itself down a pant leg and ended up on the floor. 

I am like the Sherlock Holmes of poop crimes.

After the initial shock wore off I solved the big mystery and cleaned everyone up, we headed out.

Of course, what I'd failed to notice during the clean-up phase was the second escapee.

You know, the one I ended up stepping in.

The one that inevitably ended up stuck to the bottom of my sock.

The same sock I then sat against as I was kneeling to get the boys changed and dressed to head out. 

• • • • • • •

Fortunately before we left the house, I did find that second poop. I also concluded that I'd stepped in it (since it most definitely looked stepped on at that point), so naturally I changed my socks.

Of course, I never thought to check my pants.

And then we were off!

The early fall weather was certainly lovely this year, so no jacket required. Just a waist-length shirt and my ill-fated pants.

While we ran all of our errands.

With my butt on full display.

Covered in poop. 

None of which looked the least bit like raisins.

• • • • • • •

It was at least an hour after we got home before my hand somehow ended up grazing the back of my pants.

At which point a million hopeful scenarios went through my head. My favorite being dried strawberry jam that had somehow found it's way onto the back of my pants after breakfast.

Of course, I knew even before I saw it with my own eyes what it really was. The hopeful scenarios were just my brain trying to come up with anything that would make it not be that. 

Because it was that and then some.

And I walked around my neighborhood for a full 90 minutes with poop slowly drying on the back of my pants and everything on full display.

Mortified after the fact doesn't even come close to describing it.

Still, after my initial reaction, I guess it's a good thing I found something to laugh about despite everything even at the time.

Otherwise I never would have taken this picture to complete the overshare of this post: 

This is what a Mother's love looks like everyone.
Metaphorically speaking, of course.

As much as I'd like it to be, that is not raisins you're looking at.

It is however the dried remains of exactly what you think it is.

- L.