About a week ago we went over to the house we are now renting to meet the owners, have dinner with them, get a tour of the house, etc. At one point I realized Rayna was wet and took her to the potty (for those that don't know, we practice EC... if you don't know what that is, or want to know more you can check out http://www.diaperfreebaby.org/). As is my practice, I went to pull down her pants and trainers together with one hand while cradling her in my other arm. Partway through that
maneuver I realized that she had actually pooped in her pants, not just peed. So I pulled her pants back up, stood her up and had her hold on to the edge of the toilet while I tried to carefully pull down only the (brand new, freshly lanolized) longies so as not to soil them. I was actually successful at this part and even managed to (mostly) keep her from reaching in and playing with the toilet water at the same time. Then the fun began...
I pulled down her trainers, trying to minimize the spread of poo down the legs (futile effort), and once they were off picked her up and held her over the sink to wash her off. Got the water warm... getting all clean... all of a sudden I realize she's hyperventilating a little, shaking, and looking very distressed- cues that I've come to know as "I really, REALLY have to go!!"- and I remembered that I had never offered to potty her. Oops!
Shifting the way I was holding her, I headed for the toilet just as a stream of poo came shooting out of her like a high-pressure hose. We get to the toilet... and there's a reducer on it. I can't aim her in the tiny hole the way I was holding her, so I try to turn around to get her on it the other way. After she was done I took her back to the sink for round two of clean-up and then put her on the floor as far away from the mess as I could and began yelling for Jon. Turns out he was on a conference call for work. He shows up at the door to the bathroom and (not knowing the circus that has been going on inside) asks nonchalantly, "Do you need help? Do you want me to get Andrew?" I'm not sure what I answered, but my brother showed up a few minutes later and I asked him to take Rayna and get some pants on her, please.
Once she was out of the room I turned to cleaning up the floor... toilet seat... reducer... sink. When I bent down to wipe up the floor I noticed that there was poo all down the front of my carrier (and of course it's the only one I have with me and we're leaving to go camping the next morning). I moved to get the carrier off and found that it was also all down the arm of my sweater. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I took off my sweater, too and tried to rinse off that and the carrier in the sink. Then I rifled around under the sink, found some Pine-sol and scrubbed the bathroom.
Not really the way to impress our hosts. Jon and my brothers and sisters all cracked up when I recounted the events to them. None of them had any idea that this was going on, and they said they doubted our hosts did, either (although they threatened to show them this post if I blogged about it :)
