I really never could have envisioned the entirely crazy things you end up doing as a parent. Not only are some things crazy but sometimes really really gross. Today was just such a day when I was lucky enough to confront some awfully gross craziness.

Cole went down for his usual afternoon nap and things seemed to be going well. He has been getting a bit of a cold so we weren’t entirely sure that he would sleep real soundly but everything seemed pretty good. About an hour and a half into his nap he started tossing and turning (I was downstairs working on the computer and I could see and hear him on the monitor). It didn’t seem too strange just like he woke up a bit early. He usually sleeps about 2-2.5 hrs and will often stir early and then fall back asleep. Well today he didn’t seem to want to go back to sleep and kept saying … ‘Mamma’ but not in a strange way. This often happens.

Finally about 2 hrs into his nap I decided to go up and get him up as he clearly was not going back to sleep. Steph was sleeping and had really needed some catch-up sleep after being up with Alex every few hrs every night since he was born over a month ago. So I just quietly went into Cole’s room to get him up.

I walked in to the darkened room and immediately noticed something odd in the air. It stunk. My assumption was that he had just had a poop and needed a change. As I got nearer the bed something else seemed to be going on, however. There were noticeable dark spots on the sheets, and more oddly the walls, and then, to my horror I noticed his hands and face.

There was pooh everywhere.

After my initial horror I had the quick sense to march him quickly down to the bathroom it was only then that I noticed the extent of the pooh on his hands and there they are just sliding all over mine on the way down the hall. At that point, being a parent just takes over. I didn’t care. My poor boy had pooh everywhere and must feel terrible and worse he’d been trying to sleep in it. I felt terrible. There was no scolding or upset, he’s just learning and experimenting and I can’t be upset about that. I turned on the bath and picked him up and washed his hands off in mine and then plopped him in the bath. He had the best wash he’d ever had.

Cleaning poop off the wall, however, isn’t as easy as cleaning a 2-yr old. After a bit of diligent scrubbing it came off. However, his pillow was a total loss, so he got an upgrade. His Elmo and Baby Elmo, a casualty but hopefully a little washing machine love will restore them. Same with sheets and clothes.

After I was done and Steph woke up, I started feeling pretty proud of myself as I was telling her the crazy story. I had reacted in a really positive way, told Cole that he needed to not put his hands near his bum or this type of thing would happen again, and felt he really listened and now understood.

It’s now 2 hrs later – still was feeling pretty good and Cole just pulled out his hands from his pants. With pooh on them.

Awful, crazy, gross.