Mama Tale

I experienced one of my more interesting Poopcidents this morning.  I could tell by the toxic scent that Roscoe had something special waiting for me, but I had NO IDEA. 


To my surprise horror, when I took off his jammie feet he had poop BETWEEN HIS TOES. 


That's right. 


And down his legs and up his torso.  


Picture this: I am trying desperately to extract him from his diaper without smearing/dumping poo everywhere so we are on the bathroom floor wrestling.  I finish removing the diaper just in time to catch him peeing a massive puddle. Of course he gets wildly excited and proud of himself, splashes around in it and tries to stand up. Before I can catch him (with my poop covered hands), he slips in his own pee and knocks his head on the tile.  And starts crying hysterically. So, what is a Mama to do but pick him up and CUDDLE her pee-slippery, poo-covered little bear?  It reminds me of my wise (and quite dignified lawyer) friend Leah telling me that there is no dignity left after having a baby (especially after breastfeeding a year).   


Touche, Leah.