Mother's Day 2013: Lookout Mountain

For Mother's Day, I requested breakfast in bed. Our little chef, Oliver, helped Dad mix pancake batter, and they whipped up some pancakes, scrambled eggs, and veggie "sausage" patties. The kids decided to climb into bed to eat with me, and Oliver declared it was a picnic. This was the best way to wake up!

This photo is pretty much my favorite photo ever. I just woke up, had hair everywhere, and couldn't keep my eyes open. Oliver decided to help Jo eat by feeding her pancakes. <3>

After breakfast, I asked to go hiking. I looked up some family-friendly trails nearby, and we decided to head to Lookout Mountain. There are numerous bike paths and trails throughout the area, but they have a pretty flat, 0.6 mile hiking trail from the Nature Center. On the drive up, we saw dozens of cyclists and joggers. At the Nature Center, the crowd changed, and we saw lots of families with small children.

Andrew put Jo in the hiking backpack. It's the first time we've used it since last summer, and she didn't remember it. She freaked out and started to scream at first. Once Andrew started walking, she calmed down and really enjoyed the ride. Here she is with her lovie, Tod the fox. Her Uncle Andy & Aunt Erin sent it to her for her birthday, and it is a very loved little animal.

As soon as we stepped out onto the trail, we spotted deer!

DEER POOP!

 

After the hike, we went into the Lookout Mountain Nature Center. Oliver loved exploring the poop molds they had. He got to compare elk scat with deer scat, which was very interesting to him.

Jo's favorite part was the animal pelts.

The kiddos fell asleep on the drive home. I was sleepy from the hike, too, so we made a stop at Starbucks. I bet they were busy today! When Jo woke up to a chocolate milk and cake pop, she was so excited that she squealed, "Yay!"

Once again, I had a very happy Mother's Day! Thanks for all of your hard work, Andrew! I feel incredibly lucky, and I look forward to seeing my mom this afternoon and Andrew's mom this evening. Happy Mother's Day!

Kids Say the Darnedest Things: Poop and Toothpaste

I'm still bummed about the weather forecast! We were supposed to have rain today, but the forecast has been updated to just wind. There might be rain tomorrow, so keep your fingers crossed that we can try our rainy day activity then!

Oliver's still keeping things lively by telling us all sorts of hilarious things. The other day, he came up to me and said, "I smell like toothpaste. Jo smells like poop."

Sure enough, she needed a changing! He also tells her regularly that she'll learn to use the potty this summer, and then she can wear undies.

Our "Just in Case Box" and the Tale of Jo's Public Blowout

I had a very poopy situation on my hands last week. If you don't have a weak stomach, you can laugh at my predicament and read my story below. Then, I'll share with you what I did to make sure I'm never in that situation unprepared again!

I took Oliver to his gymnastics class this morning (he's doing much better in it). I took Jo out into the hallway with a bag of toys that I'd brought, and we began playing with her blocks. Before too long, she started grunting, and I knew she was pooping. The class is only 45 minutes long, so I didn't have a bunch of stuff with me, just an emergency diaper in my purse. I waited a minute to make sure she was done, as there's nothing worse than changing a diaper only to have your kid finish pooping in the new one. 

After about a minute, I noticed things were smelly. I mean they really stinky. Jo bent forward to grab her toy car, and that's when I saw it: it was a blowout.

Poop had come up out of her diaper, over the top, and down the back of her jeans. She'd been kneeling, and it smeared all over the back of her legs and on her shoes. It was clearly up on her back, too. 

I tried to decide if I should take her home or not. There was 25 minutes left in class. The drive home is about 10 minutes. I decided it wasn't an option. I picked her up by the armpits, grabbed our stuff, and ran to the bathroom. There was no changing table! I ran next door to the family bathroom, which I knew didn't have a changing table since we use that one regularly. I know, what kind of family bathroom doesn't have a changing table, right? But at least it would give me some privacy! 

I stood Jo up and carefully lifted her shirt off of her. Miraculously, there was only a little bit of poop on the bottom of her shirt. I got her shoes off and set them on the sink, and then I peeled her jeans off and did the same. It seemed like the mess was mostly localized to the outside of her pants, so, thankfully, it didn't smear down her legs. Her socks managed to stay clean. I didn't have any wipes with me. I started to wipe her with those brown paper towels, but they only smeared the mess. So, I held her over the sink and washed her as she wailed in anger. Once she was thoroughly clean, wet, and mad, I set her down on the floor in just her socks. I went to go throw the diaper away but found there was no liner in the trashcan! I didn't want to have someone reach in and grab the mess, so I wrapped the diaper as best I could in a bunch of paper towels.

Then came time for damage control. First, I washed the small bit of poop off the shirt. I was lucky, and it came off easily. The shirt was only wet at the bottom, so I put it back on her. I washed her shoes and put those back on her, along with the fresh "emergency diaper." Then, I scrubbed and scrubbed at her jeans in the sink. They were soaking wet, but I stuck them at the bottom of the bag of toys I'd brought for Jo. Next came my own shirt. I had a disgusting poop streak down one sleeve. I couldn't exactly walk around topless, so I was stuck washing that in the sink, too, and then I had to put it back on! I rolled up the left sleeve as best I could. I then walked around the bathroom, cleaning up any poop spots on the bench and stuff. I used soap and paper towels to scrub the sink. I got the sink pretty clean and then washed my hands and Jo's hands. The whole bathroom stunk like poop. It was so embarrassing. I grabbed a few paper towels and walked out of the stinking bathroom. We walked along the hallway, looking for any poop spots to wipe up. I didn't see any, but that just might mean I missed some. 

Jo had to hang out in just her diaper and shirt. If there are any poop spots I missed anywhere, I'm sure they will know it's us! We're regulars, so most of the people recognize us there. If there's any poop, they're going to think, "Oh, it must be that kid who was hanging out in her diaper." Urg, I'm so embarrassed!

That's the story I shared with all the ladies in my MOMS Club. They were able to laugh at my story and assured me they've been there. They also gave me a recommendation that seems so obvious now: keep a spare outfit, diapers, and wipes in the car. As one mom put it, even potty trained kids can have accidents. It's better to be safe than sorry!

That same day, I put together an "emergency" box (which I've dubbed our "Just in Case Box," so it's not confused with, say, a first aid kit or something). In it, I put an outfit for each kid, two pairs of undies, two spare diapers, wipes, and plastic bags to bundle any soiled clothes and any icky diapers & wipes. I sealed it with a single piece of tape so it won't spill all over the car but will still be easy to open if and when I need it.

Kids Say the Darnedest Things

I've been wanting to make this blog topic for a while now.  Oliver has gotten to the point where he occasionally says the most hilarious things.  It seems fitting to record them here, so I can tease him later.  Expect to see these posts fairly regularly, especially as he gets more vocal.

This afternoon, we left my parents' house and headed to Andrew's parents' house to make our Mother's Day rounds.  As we pulled into my in-laws' driveway, Oliver looks around and says in complete and utter awe, "So many garages!"

Funny, but it can't compete with what he said a few months ago.  I was in the midst of changing Jo's diaper on my bed.  I took off her soiled diaper and turned around to grab a wipe.  She was at the base of the bed, but this was before she was rolling over, so I didn't have to worry about her falling off the bed.  The moment I turned away, she started pooping.  It shot out like mustard from a squeeze bottle, and she left a trail of liquid baby poop on the carpet.  Yes, it squirted out of her butt and onto the floor.  Babies are amazing little creatures.  The carpet in our house is an absolute wreck already, so it wasn't that big of a deal.  I grabbed an old towel and blotted it to get the worst of it up.  I finished changing Jo, and then I went downstairs to check on Oliver and to get the bottle of vinegar to finish the cleaning job.  Oliver came back upstairs with me and saw Jo's poop mess on the carpet.  He looked distressed, and then he pointed to it and said, "Oh no!  Mom peed!"

And the Worst Mom of the Day Award Goes to...

At 8am this morning, Oliver got super cranky, which is his way of telling me he needs a nap. I tried to walk him to sleep, but that didn't work. I nursed him, and he fell right asleep. However, the moment I set him in his crib, he started screaming and crying. I gave him about five minutes, but I finally decided he was no longer tired. I pulled him out of his crib, changed his diaper, and took him downstairs to play.

When we were downstairs, I noticed something was stinking like poopy. I'd just taken all his old wipes down to the kitchen trash, so I decided that was the source of the stink, and I took the garbage out. Meanwhile, Oliver was still super cranky and complaining & crying. I walked him around, and he fell asleep. Once again, as soon I lowered him into the crib, he started crying. I pulled him out and sang to him, and he fell fast asleep. Or so I thought. He hadn't so much as touched the matress when he awoke, crying. I pat his back and whispered, "Shhh," and finally decided to let him cry to sleep.

Five minutes later, he was still crying, so I went back upstairs and pat his back and whispered to him. Ten minutes later, I did the same thing. It's very stressful and heart-breaking to hear him cry that long (Fifteen minutes doesn't sound that long, but try listening to a crying baby for that long, and you'll understand). I didn't want to give up because I read that if you pick a baby up when you're doing this method, it un-does all the work you did. After another ten minutes, I was about to go back upstairs, when he finally fell asleep. Whew!

After about half an hour, he woke up, and I ran upstairs and picked him up and smooched him and told him what a good boy he was... and then I noticed the poop stink again. Uh oh. I took him to the changing table, and he had poop all the way up his back to his shoulders, and it was crusted onto his butt cheeks. I can't believe it. I made my baby sleep in his feces! No wonder he was so upset. Poor baby.

And so it was that I earned The Worst Mom of the Day Award.

She Didn't Poop

Throughout our first year at the apartment complex, Andrew and I were frequently grossed out by the doggy poop surprises left around the courtyard. Winter made it easy (at least we could see it and not step in it!), but it was still gross.

Andrew and I always clean up after Bailey. Always. Well, there was the one time she had diarrhea, and it couldn't be done. So I suppose I should say always minus one.

One day, about two months ago or so, I was out in the courtyard, and Bailey squatted to pee. She's old and a bit arthritic, so her back is a little hunched, and it takes her longer than all the younger dogs. As she got up, and we headed inside, I thought I heard a woman yell, "Clean up after it!" But I couldn't see anyone, and thought it might have been something else.

Well, yesterday, we were out in the courtyard again, and again, Bailey peed. We moved on to another grassy area, when a woman stepped out onto her balcony and yelled to me, "Aren't you going to clean it up?"

I looked up at her, perplexed, and said, "Uh, she peed."

"It looked like she pooped."

I held up the green poop bag I was carrying in my hand and said, "No, sorry, she's old and arthritic. That's how she pees. Don't worry, I have a poop bag."

The woman looked at me, said, "Well, I thought she'd pooped," and turned and went inside.

On the one hand, I admire her for having the courage to confront someone who doesn't clean up after a pet. On the other hand, I thought she could have been nicer to me after I cleared up the issue and maybe (perhaps) even apologized.