Aaron is out of town for the weekend. He is doing some work in Sarasota and won’t be back until Sunday. When Porter was younger–in the first two months–Aaron left for a few weekends because he was in a wedding. Then, I had people come and stay with me because I was too tired to do it all myself. Porter wasn’t sleeping through the night yet, he was colicky and gassy and unhappy–I needed help.
But now, I pretty much got it covered. Porter is much more managable. He sleeps through the night, so I sleep through the night. He needs to eat every 3-4 (instead of 1-2) hours and I am not his primary food source. He takes naps that are over an hour. He can sit on the floor and entertain himself. We have come a long way in these almost 10 months.
Every now and then when I am alone with P, though, I could use a hand.
Like tonight during the Poopocalypse.
Just before dinner, I changed Porter’s diaper. He had be gassy since he came home from daycare, but his diaper only showed signs of #1. I tried putting P’s pants back on, but he was rolling all over the floor so I just left him in his long-sleeved onesie. He was going to eat dinner soon and get a bath right after, so it seemed like a good idea to just let him be pantsless.
Dinner was going as usual: a little Beechnut Ham, Rice and Pineapple dinner, a few Gerber puffs, a little formula. Porter was drinking from his bottle (all by himself) when I heard it.
It sounded loud.
He wasn’t grunting as he usually does when he makes “rainbows” so I figured (or maybe I hoped?) it was just gas.
Then the smell hit me.
However, Porter didn’t seem bothered, so I let him finish the little that was left of his bottle. I picked him up and saw that he was sitting in a pile of #2.
This would have been a GREAT time to have Aaron available to help!
I carried Porter upstairs and got poop all over myself in the process. I laid him on the changing table…
…and he spits up ALL over the place!
This ALSO would have been a GREAT time to have an extra set of hands to help.
I immediately take off my shirt (slightly soiled) and throw it in the hamper. I unsnapped P’s onesie and saw that the diaper had leaked all down his left leg. I brace myself and open the dreaded Pampers.
It’s everywhere. Up the front. Up the back.
Yet again, it would have been great to have Aaron here to give me a hand.
And my son, who has to make sure his penis is still there every single time we open his diaper, put both hands on his penis–which was covered in poop.
With the diaper open and its contents exposed, Porter started kicking (because he is having a GRAND ol’ time) and he put his feet in the poo too.
And this is one more time when Aaron’s help would have been fabulous.
And I just kept wiping. It seemed like no matter how many wipes I used, it wasn’t enough. Just when I thought I got one part clean, some other part I just cleaned was somehow poopy again…
Finally, I got him clean. Then I moved him, naked, to his crib so I could change the cover on the changing table, all while I said to myself, “Please Porter, please don’t pee or poop in your crib!”
And he didn’t! We made it into the bathtub and he didn’t pee or poop in there either. In fact, bathtime and bedtime when off without a hitch!
So, as I sit here listening to the washer on the “stain removal” cycle I am wondering how single parents do it. I could barely handle a poopy diaper myself.