Two tub kind of day.

Being parents, poop is just something we have learned to live with. Babies "go" constantly. It's a universal truth. And normally, it really isn't a big deal. Normally. However, we recently started Mason on solids (mostly graham crackers and mashed up bananas) and things are getting a little out of hand.
Now, the following stories are not for those with weak tummies or those who are offended by potty talk. You've been warned.
I feel like I have had my fair share of blow outs. Clarification after writing that sentence: MASON has had his fair share of blow outs. I don't have blow outs. I deal with his. Now, as I was saying, Mason has had some record breaking poops. I always, ALWAYS have a change of clothes for Mase in our bag. And have needed to use them on several occasions. This morning was a whole different animal.
Mason has been sleeping in our bed since our first round of teething. Judge all you want, but when I have the choice between all of us getting a mediocre night's rest, or none at all, I will take what I can get. Mason had been, a-hem, tooting all night, I'm sure his little body is just learning to deal with the new foods we have been trying. Just when Riley left for work and gave us our goodbye smooches, Mason let out an especially productive gas. I assumed the Pampers Cruisers could do what they were advertised to do, and Mason and I settled in to watch an episode of Handy Manny and wake up a bit. But OHHH no. No sir. Those Pampers Cruisers let me down in a big way! Mason reached for something, and the problem was made known.
Another lesson I have learned as a parent is there are some poops you can wipe, and some require a rinse. And some clothes you can save, and some you gotta toss. This poop was a rinse-n-toss!
So off to the bathroom Mason and I went. I stripped him down and threw his jammies away, then turned on the faucet and stepped into the tub. My plan was to hold Mason under his armpits, and rise what I could before sitting him down for a bath. That was my plan.
Mason's plan was to soak us both.
As soon as I started the rinse, he reached forward and pulled up the lever to start the shower! I couldn't just toss the babe to the side to save myself. So there we stood, Mason and I. Both getting completely soaked and watching the poop slip down the drain.
That was our morning.
This afternoon Mason was in his saucer playing while I "folded some laundry" (which means drink a Diet Coke and watch E News) and Riley started dinner. Again, the sound I have come to dread. My sister, Halle, calls it the "tuba butt". I should have known the disaster ahead considering the fact that Mase was in his saucer. Straddling the fabric in the seat can't be the most poop friendly situation. As soon as I lifted him from the leg holes, I realized this one required back-up. A rinse-n-save. Back to the tub we go.
Riley jumped into action. He ran to start the bath while I stripped Mason. I held Mason's flailing hands while Riley wiped what he could, then took the nakey babe and rinsed. A poop partner makes all the difference. We just laughed. If only Riley had been there this morning! Perhaps it wouldn't have been such a disaster if my poop partner had been there to offer some assistance.
And now I sit with a squeaky clean and freshly lotioned baby and I just have to laugh. Life with Mason and Riley is never dull, they're a real GAS!!
Xoxo