All photos contained herein are reenactments. The original event was far too graphic and intense to photograph.
It had been three days.
He used to not be able to go three hours without pooing.
I knew that when it finally happened, I was going to be in for it, so I went ahead and started putting him in the next size up of diapers in order to help contain it.
(Please notate that as Mistake #1. Next Size Up = Too Loose To Contain.)
I had just finished feeding him, and it was right before I walked out the door to go to the dentist. My Mom was to arrive any minute to watch the kids, and I was dressed in non-puked-on clothes and ready to go.
I sat him on the couch in the Boppy for just a minute.
He looked at me sideways, then there was a groan, a red face, and then unpleasant noises.
Ali, who was standing nearby, giggled and said, “He’s filling his diaper!”
I didn’t want to pick him up and disturb the contents until the process was complete, so I left him sitting there.
(Mistake #2.)
More groaning. More red face…and then it happened.
With the pressure of a fire hydrant, a waterfall of nightmares began pouring out of the side of his diaper.
Ali saw it spewing forth and sprinted to the other side of the room, yelling as she ran, “I’m going to stay over here so the poo can’t get to me!!!”
I yelped and grabbed a stack of napkins off of the coffee table.
I sopped a gallon of foulness off of couch, and quickly put the napkin stack under him.
Just in time for another eruption.
This was no waterfall…this was a Geyser.
Or a Volcanic Event.
Or Hell opening up and swallowing my living room into it’s murky, seedy, smelly depths.
It overflowed off of the napkins and back to the devastated couch.
There was nothing to do but stare, and hope that it was all a dream…or that my Mom would hurry up and arrive, and I could run out the door, pretending I didn’t see what had just taken place.
I finally unfroze and yelled for Ali to go get me the box of wet wipes. She reluctantly left her place of refuge and brought them to me, stretching her arm out as far as she could to hand them to me so she didn’t have to get too close.
“Don’t use them ALL up, okay Mommy?”
Then she ran back to high ground.
I assessed the damage. I decided the only way to tackle this was one bite at a time.
(SO not literally.)
I wiped the dripping layer off of Noah and prepared him for transport. I carried him at arm’s length to his changing table, leaving the massive disgust of what used to be our couch behind.
I opened up his diaper, half expecting it to be empty based on the volume that defected from it, but no – it was a massive lake. A lake so nasty that it looked like somewhere that Voldemort would choose to hide a horcrux.
I stripped him down and realized…the wet wipes were in the living room.
Yelled for Ali again, thanking God that I had a four year old assistant.
I began sopping up his brown coating. All while he, of course, giggled maliciously.
(Apparently, the combination of wet wipes, a now empty intestinal system, and sticky poo is quite ticklish.)
I left him in his crib, giggling and naked-but-a-diaper, while I went to burn address the couch.
And at that point, my Mom walked in.
And, thankfully, she didn’t walk back out when she saw the massively toxic state of my house and my children.
I finished the HazMat cleanup as best as it was in my power to do so, although I don’t think that our couch will ever feel the same about Noah. It kinda has this whimpering-in-the-corner aura about it now…
Then I rushed out the door to make it to my dentist appointment.
About halfway there, I realized that I never checked my face, clothes, or arms for shrapnel, so I began a mid-drive inspection.
And it was a good thing I did – my dentist would have really wondered why I’d eaten mustard for breakfast.
so so so so funny. :) :) Can’t wait till I have those days. Whenever God sees fit. :) :)
I think you would appreciate this song:
http://www.myspace.com/theterribletwosband/music/songs/great-big-poop-279103
(The artist was pointed out by a friend over at http://allsewnupetsy.blogspot.com/)
And now that’s going to be stuck in my head forever… :)
Poor you! I haven’t laughed this hard in a while though and needed it.
I admire you and your mom, I would have been standing with Ali a very long distance away. Althoughmy nephew had a blowout once while in the car.Luckily I don’t think it was quite as bad as what you experienced.
That reminds me of Ali’s blowout in the car. Poor you and Ali trying to clean all that up. Sorry, I had to laugh.
Oh no!!! Poor Rachel :( I sympathize, empathizse, and in general feel your pain. I’m so sorry! Poo is my foe on a very regular basis. Sigh. Dumb poo. I have to admit, that while I grieve for you, the pic of Noah’s malicious grin owned me!
Oh my goodness….I just got so stressed for you reading this story.
I remember changing one of the triplets, lifted up her butt to put on a clean diaper, she grunted, and the next thing I know, there is a line of poop from the crib to the other side of the room. It’s amazing how much poop these little, tiny, itsy-bitsy babies can have in them!
Yes, quite! I found poo marks on Noah’s wall weeks after a similar incident to yours!!
Oh my goodness. This had me cracking up. How such a beautiful cherubic face be the source of such contamination is beyond me.
This brought back memories. Not in a good way. Thank goodness they’re cute, eh? :-)
Uggh. I don’t have anything comparable but I do feel your pain!
Awesome pictures! Not so awesome story (I remember Nate having a bout or two like that). Not fun.
Oh that is terrible!! Landon went from like 5 or 6 poops a day, to one. He didn’t have one today though… so I’m getting scared. REALLY scared. I think I’ll go ahead and get out some plastic for the couch. But seriously – those pictures are BEYOND precious! His eyes and dimples and that SMILE are just adorable! You guys make beautiful babies!
Yes, squeaky / sweaty or no, a plastic couch is a very GOOD idea. Too bad I didn’t think of it last week.
Way to go Noah! Every baby has to have a few of these episodes that we parents can use as future blackmail. :) Sounds like this is one for the record books! At least you weren’t in the car, but I’m sure your poor couch will never be the same!!!
Oh yes. Ali’s famous one was in the car. She was clapping it… and had it on her mouth.
(gag)
Hehehehehe. Laughing *with* you of course!
Luckily I haven’t fallen victim to a poo-splosion (yet?), but I’m awfully glad we have a leather couch, just in case!
That sounds awful, but I loved the pictures if his face!!
Pretending that I didn’t read the punch line. Because EWW!!!
Besides, how can you malign such a cutie? Good thing the projectile phase is short :)
Wowsa! Those big sisters really do come in handy for sure… :)
If you have a micro fiber couch, you can use alcohol to clean up the damage… If you don’t have any on hand, you can use hand sanitizer. :) Isn’t it funny how those episodes seem to happen when you are dressed in “real clothes” about to go somewhere!
Thanks! My couch is chenille-ish, and it came up fairly easily. I just think that the couch is forever damaged – in it’s heart.
Oh, Wow!! That somewhat happened to us while I was out with my sister and niece eating lunch. Changing that type of diaper in the car is way worse! But I feel for your sofa :/
Loved your reenactment pictures – those are too cute!
Oh yes. Ali’s was in the car. It was UNBELIEVABLE. So glad that Noah at least had the common courtesy to have his at home.
Then again, the very next night, he had an even worse one while we were out to eat. (sigh)
I realize I’m almost a month late commenting, but better late than never, right?
When I read this I thought Levi will never do that (at the time he was still in the stage where he couldn’t go longer than 3 hours w/o “going”)….well, this weekend when my parents were watching the kids while we were at the wedding, he had 2 explosions poops all over my mother. She had to wash 2 of her and his outfits w/i a couple of hours :)
yeah, I kind of like the poo-splosions that require a bath….because i don’t hafta clean those up! unless Brett isn’t home. and then I do.