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Bad Poops Can Happen to Good Parents

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This past week I noticed that Sydney had become slightly constipated, only pushing out little pellets every now and then. So, after consulting Dr. Google, I purchased a few 2nd Stage foods consisting of mixed pureed prunes and apples. I read that this was sure to get her little bowels going. If I had only known how true that was going to be.

I fed her one whole container of the mixture at lunch, and we then went about our day. We crawled around in her room, she tried to help me fold clothes (see: hinder); everything was peachy. She even had a fairly full dirty diaper in the early evening, which made me happy – the prunes had done their job!

Oh, they had only BEGUN to do their job.

About 30 minutes before bedtime, I set her in the playpen so I could get a few things in order, and so she could wind down by talking to her animals. Twenty minutes later, I called her dad over to say goodnight to her and went to pick her up… then stopped short.

She was smiling a big, goofy, “I feel better now, mommy,” grin, with her clothes and hands covered in poop. It didn’t end there. The bottom of the playpen? Smeared with the stuff. Guess what else was in the playpen? All of her favorite plush toys, so that if she fell, she wouldn’t hurt herself.

Cue vomit.

Her dad immediately snapped into problem-solving mode (thank you, military background). He picked her up and whisked her away to the bathroom. We stripped her down, got the bath going and soaped her up good. Once she was squeaky clean with a fresh diaper and pajamas, we stuck her in her bouncer and set to work assessing the damage.

One by one we picked up her toys and inspected them thoroughly. “Kermit survived,” my husband would say, “but Piglet was a casualty.” On and and on we went, making absolute certain we separated the healthy from the wounded.

Then, we had to disect the playpen itself, finding ourselves IMMENSELY happy we had purchased two large canisters of Lysol wipes that very afternoon.

Once everything was disinfected, and the wounded toys and clothes were taking a spin in the washer, we looked at our girl and found her slumped over in the bouncer, exhausted from watching us work. Us too, kid.

Note to self: HALF a container of prunes, next time. Just half, that’s all it takes.

Has your baby had a potty mishap?


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