(warning: I talk about poop)
Yesterday I experienced a parenting rite of passage that I only thought happened in the movies: I cleaned toddler poo off of every surface in J’s bedroom.
I won’t go into the nasty details, but let’s just say that a cranky two-year old, lots of fruit, and the discovery of putting one’s hands down one’s diaper creates quite a…sticky…situation for mama. And if that weren’t bad enough, after I stripped kiddo down to his birthday suit, he decides to PEE ALL OVER THE BATHROOM.
This is one of those moments where you’re supposed to think, “I’ll look back and laugh, hoo boy.” But I can tell you right now. No. No, I will not be looking back at the day where I was on my hands and knees with Lysol wipes, paper towels, Method cleaning spray (Grapefruit scented), and a trash can, cleaning up my child’s excrement, and give a good chuckle.