What Love Looks Like

Sometimes love is making a play-doh poop out of nothing more than primary colors when that is what your boys would rather see more than anything else you could possibly create.

– I makes applause hands for reasonable interpretation.

– Must touch it!

- L.

PS "Touch it!" was the watchword of the day. In future news... the time my boys tell someone Mommy made a poop on the kitchen table. I'm 100% sure it will happen even if I don't know where or when.

PPS. If you're wondering how I pulled off this masterpiece please note that you too can create a reasonable light brown poop color out of 2.5 parts yellow and roughly 1 part blue and 1 part red. Mix well and add "texture" as necessary. 

A Series Of Happy Accidents

"Remember our golden rule: we don't make mistakes, we make happy accidents, so we can turn this into a beautiful painting no matter what, because between the two of us, we can do anything.” 

– Bob Ross 

Apparently my boys are familiar with the golden rule of Bob Ross because they made what they considered to be a very happy accident all over their room a week or more ago. Also, between the two of them they can do just about anything (especially when no one is looking) which has been well documented here and here. I'm not sure if the "painting" they made was beautiful or not since no one took the time to fully appreciate it before Gamma Rita and I sprung into action with a lot of soap and water and bleach, but even a cursory glance indicated that my sons certainly gave it their all "no matter what".

And just in case you aren't sure where I'm going with this post, it's about poop.

Things ended with a bucket of legos and a few other assorted toys drying outside after a thorough scouring:

And also this: 

Why yes, that IS duct tape!

I bought it in white to fix a one-time thing around the house and despite an occasional empty threat here or there, it's laid dormant among the fix-it supplies.

At least until now.

I did not stop to take pictures of the carnage I walked in on in the AM last week, but by complete happenstance Gamma Rita enjoyed a Klondike bar after lunch the same day and shared a little chocolate and ice-cream with her grandsons. I guess you could say it was another happy accident – at least if Seth recreating a smaller scale version of the "painting" in chocolate rather than poop counts for anything. 

– It look a lot like 'dis everyone, but original was bigger.

– And I doesn't want to alarm you, but when I say bigger I mean lots bigger.

– Almost as big as my poop-eatin' grin everyone! I help with morning art project
so 'dis is qualified opinion.

As for the duct tape, it turns out Nate and Seth were pretty impressed and more than happy to show off for the camera. 

– 'Dis our new and improved diapers, everyone!
– And so far they is holding up despite our best efforts to make more morning
painting fun in room.

– Is OK though. We likes a challenge.
– Also we like duct tape as it turn out. 'Dis really was a happy accident, everyone!

- L. 

PS. I started writing this post last week, so the original pictures pre-dated my discovery of this: 

Duck® Brand duct tape comes in tons of fun colors and patterns as it turns out. You should have seen the look on Nate and Seth's faces when I pulled out the roll of blue penguin tape at bedtime a few nights ago. Trust me when I say it was a definite hit, and much like the plain white it's doing a fine job (so far) of keeping the diapers on in the morning until I make it in to the boys' room.

PPS. My apologies to the late Bob Ross for taking his beautiful quote places it never should have gone. It was, however, too good to pass up.

Oh Poop.

Alternate Title: "Why I've Had To Alter My Vocabulary Forever And Will Likely Never Look At Chocolate Ice Cream Quite The Same Way Ever Again."

Obviously the first title won out for the sake of brevity, but the alternate title is certainly more accurate. We're still deep in the trenches when it comes to potty learning, but one thing my boys have learned (and learned well) is the power of a well-timed poop joke.

• • • • • • • 

Not my kids, but close. Oh, so close.

When we were still using diapers full-time, my boys would nearly always refer to a poopy diaper as a "surprise" (helpful hint: it was almost never a surprise). On occasion a particularly spectacular poop would be referred to as a "sheetcake" – my boys eat a lot and poop well, so use your imagination here (please). In either case, I often hear one or the other while in the throes of unfastening a diaper.

You might recall that M. and I bought the boys a water table as part of our Canada Day festivities, but in the interest of keeping our national holiday poop-free I'll admit I left out part of the story.

As M. was ushering the boys outside that day to see said water table for the first time he said, "Mommy and Daddy got you a surprise!". The news was met with a bit of a confused pause until Nate piped up in his sweetly inquisitive voice and guessed "sheetcake?".

Which basically means I now refer to any and all surprises as "a treat" because... well, I think the kids thought we were about to present them with poop. Possibly a really spectacular one, but er... that's even worse. Wow. Great fodder for later but I'm not sure where I went wrong on the concept of "surprises".

• • • • • • • 

As for why I will likely never look at chocolate ice cream quite the same way again...

... the answer can be found here. In the event that you are squeamish, the link does not contain poop of any kind, but rather my boys (inspired) musings over dessert last night.

I promised I wouldn't say (outright) who was responsible for this particular debacle so I won't, but it wasn't me this time. It might however be someone who thought teaching the boys this caper was "a very uncouth" sort of thing to do (see comments).

Oh, irony.

- L.

Then And Now

Having written recently about losing the cloth love of late, perhaps it was no small coincidence that I came across some never before published photos and videos during my attempts at proper archiving* earlier this week.

We've been using cloth since the boys were big enough to fit into the smallest size diapers that I'd bought. I think my guys were around 6 weeks old at that point. The smallest diapers I had on hand were intended for a minimum 7-8 lb. baby.

The first time someone pooped in one I wondered what I'd gotten myself into.

It took a day or so and a wash cycle (3 wash cycles to be more accurate**) to realize it was probably doable.

And it was.

And for the most part I was glad we were doing it even at the time. We saved a lot of money and once I had a routine down (which happened surprisingly quickly) it really didn't feel like extra work.

Except lately it kind of does.

I think there's at least a few obvious reasons:

1. Toddler poop vs. baby poop. You would think poop is poop, but I assure you not all poop is created equal. Toddler poop is it's own special entity. Phrases like "peanut butter poop" were coined to describe this phenomenon. I've probably already said too much so I'll just leave it at that.

2. The boys are well into 2 year sizes and at this point clothing manufacturers pretty much quit making clothing for a bulky diaper bum. We tend to buy from the Gap, mostly because their clothes are great for skinny babies/toddlers, but lately what is baggy everywhere else is oddly snug around the hip with cloth diapers.

3. The overall diaper malfunctions since last summer are not boding well. "Uh-oh. Raisins." was kind of a clincher.

Lately my toddlers babies have been showing some vague signs of being ready for potty-learning. I already know the ticket is in getting one of them to do something, so I don't have to get both on board so much as one on board strongly. I'd wager a guess at this point over who it will be, but I'm almost always wrong when it comes to stuff like this so I'll refrain. It really doesn't matter who goes for it first – the main thing is my unwavering belief that the other will follow suit with minimal effort on my part simply because they like to keep pace with each other and are keenly interested in what the other one is doing.

So maybe with all that said, it was more than fortuitous timing that I came across those nearly forgotten photos earlier this week.

It didn't re-inspire the cloth love per se, but it did make me want to have what might very well be a last hurrah, which I did.

Just in case.

Without further ado, the OP nostalgically presents: 1 year ago in our brand new pocket-stuffed diapers...

Checking out an equally new mitten for the first time.

Chewing on a favorite toy because the perpetual teething was already well under way.

Plotting the great "Penaten Caper". 

Plotting a variety of future capers which seems obvious now but at the time I was all, "Awhhh! Nate is reaching for stuff he can't reach yet. How cute!". 

• • • • • • •

1 year later. Same diapers, same babies, different (and yet also kind of the same) hijinks: 

They only look peaceful because I've given them some previously not-allowed magazines. They are pretty obsessed with "MAG-ZINE!" by the way. Usually they get Grandma Leslie's throw away Chatelaines or an old IKEA catalog. This time I offered up two design periodicals from my private stock. The only thing better than "MAG-ZINE!" is "Mommy's MAG-ZINE!" so they sat kind of still for a couple of photos at least. 

Until we got an urge to stretch. 

Followed by some climbing. 

Followed by even more climbing. 

Followed by everyone wanting to get in on the action, which kind of cut our camera time short since these were not the most sturdy perches to be hanging out on. Also the scent of shenanigans was in the air. 

Is like hurricane blew through here, everyone!

Surveying the aftermath of "MOMMY'S MAG-ZINE!". Even though you can't see the debris in any of the photos, there was an extended period of destruction after the first two shots were taken.

– L.

PS. There's a new video on our YouTube™ channel with clips from last year and clips from last night. Shenanigans and cuteness abound. I threw in the toddler tantrum at the end to kind of balance things out. Enjoy!

PPS. A follow up regarding the "Uh-oh, Raisins." incident since you may have noticed a bit of funny business going on in at least one of the pictures further up this post with an ill-fitting diaper.

Here is a better look at what I mean: 

With the exception of last night's trip down memory lane, Seth hasn't worn these particular diapers in several months. He's a pretty skinny guy and at some point it didn't seem to matter how much I adjusted the rise, the leg would gape. It's odd that these fit him so well as a baby and not now – but this pic does make it pretty easy to see how some "raisins" might end up on the floor and how pants would wind up soaked 30 minutes after a diaper change.

Obviously, a less dramatic version of this is happening with the other style of pocket diaper I have for Seth that I thought were a snug fit. Or maybe they were a snug fit and it's just time to go begging for sandwiches again. 

• • • • • • •

*Getting my game on with proper backups is yielding a bumper crop of undiscovered pics, so don't be surprised if there are a few more posts of this variety coming your way.

**Washing cloth diapers generally takes 3 cycles through the machine, plus a cold water pre-soak in the infamous Poo-Buckets™. It was a little faster at our previous residence, but we have better machines where we live now (even though it takes a little longer).

Generally speaking – since everything comes out in the wash (bad pun intended) this was our typical routine:

• 30 minute pre-soak in cold water 
• 1 short cycle cold wash with pre-rinse stinkies remover (35-45 minutes) 
• 1 long cycle hot wash with diaper-friendly detergent (Rock'n Green got the job done where others fell a bit short) and a splash of bleach (upward of an hour - closer to two hours at the new place if I use the sanitize cycle) 
• 1–2 rinses (20-35 minutes) 

At minimum it's been a 2 hour and 45 minute commitment every other day. Sounds a bit crazy on top of the copious amounts of regular laundry, but it really wasn't a hassle somehow. Although I expect this fully explains why there is almost always a washer or dryer as background noise in nearly all of our videos.

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.