Not So Fast

Just when I was mentally applauding myself for handling two kids on my own at bathtime so gracefully while Danny was outside cutting the grass, my ego took a nosedive.

Lydie was happily cooing in the bouncy seat in the hallway as I was preparing to undress Ty for his bubble bath. The water was warming up in the tub, and Ty was chanting, "tee tee, tee tee" in anticipation of his Elmo potty seat making its way onto the toilet (I think the highlight of the child's day is "wiping" with a handful of toilet paper and dropping it in the commode.). When he'd recently had a bowel movement, I'd decided to leave his shorts off after I changed him since his bath was just moments away anyway. So, with his shorts already out of the way, I helped him out of his shirt and began removing his diaper. I figured it was probably pretty dry in light of the recent change, so I just pulled it off without a thought.

Then, something hit my foot.

It took a minute.

But, I soon realized that a huge hunk of poop had just landed on the bathroom floor, my foot, and the just-washed bathmat.

Lovely.

And disgusting.

I could almost hear the air rushing out of my ego that had too soon been inflated. I suppose I didn't handle two kids on my own at bathtime quite so gracefully after all. But, I'm trying. And I'm living to tell about it.

And laugh about it. Because, really, it was kind of funny.