Four Words: Shower, Bath, Poop... again.

7:31 AM

I stared at the clock. 8:51am. I knew that Michael usually filled his diaper some time between 9am and 9:30am... but I just couldn't help it. I NEEDED a shower. I hadn't showered in two days and I was just dying to wash my hair.

Big mistake.

I should have learned the first time. I swore I wouldn't take a shower before his typical poop-time just in case. Even though lately he really hadn't been filling his diaper until sometime in the afternoon, I should have known that the day I wanted a shower around 9am would be the day he went poop.

It's become a routine. Not the pooping in the bath tub, but taking a shower with Michael in his little Whale-of-a-Tub at the other end of the bath tub. It works wonderfully.

Every now and then I get to escape and take a shower by myself, but at this point when Michael touches my wet hair he looks at me like I've betrayed him. Somewhere in his brain he seems to realize that I took a shower without him. It's cute and strange all at the same time.

Anyway.

I just couldn't wait any longer. Besides, a shower/bath always makes Michael sleepy. Since Clark and I went on a date last Friday, he really hasn't been napping well. I decided that a bath would help him nap well. (Fingers crossed he's made it over the twenty-five minute hump.)

I ran the water, put him in his tub, and all seemed to be going well.

Until he made the face.

Side note: Lately Michael's bowels have been a little more... solid. (Sorry if this is TMI. I suppose this story all together could be classified as TMI.) I'm not sure what food that he's been enjoying makes it this way. I think it might be the avocado (I have yet to research if this could be the case).

Michael's face the past couple of days has been a little more strained. You can REALLY tell when he's going because he has this vain that tends to stick out in his forehead and he starts grunting. Poor baby. I've been giving him a little water everyday (since he pretty much loves my Camelbak) to help him out.


Back to the story.

So, he made the face. He seemed so focused and that vein started popping out.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to pick him up, honestly. I didn't have time (or the traction) to attempt to get him to the toilet in time to just poop over it. I knew that one way or another something was going to come out of his rear end and I didn't have any way of preventing it.

So I knelt down in the shower, put my hand under his bottom, and waited.

A few seconds (or minutes... not sure which) later I tip-toed out of the shower, tossed the poop into the toilet, and flushed it away. I got back in the shower, drained and refilled his tub, and went back to washing.

I officially have no shame. I officially have no problem with any sort of anything that may come out of his body. I am officially a mother.

In years to come, this will be one of the stories I can share with Michael when he has kids. Or I can share it before then to embarrass him. I'm sure I'll decide in the moment when it will be best to watch his cheeks turn red due to "shame" or laughter.

I learned two more lessons.

1. Don't take a shower until I'm absolutely certain Michael's not going to go poop, or he already has and I think there's a good break before he'll go again. (Supposedly I learned this last time....)

2. Make a plan to start bathing Michael by himself again. This way, if he goes poop in the bath (or makes "the face"), it will be easier to take care of and will not involve handling poop in any sort of way.

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