With Finn's increased level of activity and seemingly incessant need to get all up in everything's business, comes a whole new level of mess. We barely washed this kid when he was a baby, but now it seems like he needs to be hosed down daily. He comes back from daycare soaking wet and muddy. He exits dinner covered in Ranch dressing and whatever healthy food the dressing was trying to mask. You can't tell where he ends and the pile of vegetables under his chair begins.
Even though he loves bathtime in the tub, running a bath every night always seems like too much work, so we mix it up periodically with a shower. This is a two person job. One person to hold him in the shower and one person to run around the outside of the shower curtain playing peek-a-boo. I drew the peek-a-boo card tonight which meant I was also on drying duty.
After a nice shower, there's nothing I enjoy more than doing laps around the house naked and it turns out that Finn is into that too. I figured I'd let him run around a bit while I got his diaper & PJ's ready. Bad idea #1.
I didn't notice the pile of poop on his floor until he had already stepped in it and was tracking it back toward the bathroom. I quickly scooped Finn up and threw him back in the shower with his mom. Bad idea #2.
We have an old claw-foot iron tub upstairs, and while quaint & cute, it doesn't really drain very quickly. Since Finn's feet were covered in poo, this now meant that the shower water remaining in the tub was slowly turning brown. Eager to begin trying to bleach her feet, Kitty washed Finn quickly then set him down outside the tub while I continued scrubbing the carpet with toilet paper (extremely effective). Bad idea #3.
Finn took off down the hall again, still unencumbered by any sort of poop prevention device. Knowing that he often saves "the best" for last, Kitty frantically tried to call him back to the bathroom; calls he ignored. When he finally decided to listen, he ran back to the bathroom at full speed down the hall, only to slip on the now soaking wet floor and lay out flat on his back, thunking the back of his head soundly on the floor.
The scene is now: me on hands & knees scrubbing poop out of carpet with fraying toilet paper; Kitty in shower, standing in poo water; Finn laying on his back on the floor, naked, screaming at the top of his lungs. Awesome.
Luckily, the tile is cork and the baby's head is apparently concrete and/or lead so no permanent damage appears to have been done to anything other than our nerves. And perhaps the carpet. Luckily we're still on a diaper service, so from here on out, I can just carpet the upstairs in cloth diapers for bath time.
I don't have a picture of Finn and poop, so here's a picture of Finn and Aunt Holly.
Hmm. Perhaps I could have phrased that better.