Oh the joy.

I think it is written somewhere that every mom has to have some sort of "poop experience" that might be funny to look back on at some later point in time. Don't ask where this mysterious book of rules and regulations might be, I just know that it has to be out there somewhere. Well, this last Thursday I added (or Brady did for me) another chapter in my things-my kid-has-done-that-will-be-funny-later book. Brady had been happily playing in the entryway and I was working on something on the computer. I had checked on him several times and he was doing fine, no signs of the impending disaster presenting themself. I heard him go upstairs (which is a normal occurance- he goes to his room often to get toys) and I thought nothing of it. A little while later I thought "he's been too quiet for too long". (another rule- long lapses of silence are generally bad, which seems a bit backwards to me) As I walk out into the living room, I'm met with the scene of Brady with no pants. And no diaper. And poop smeared on his legs and hands and caked in his nail beds. Sweet. I look around and find his diaper on the floor. (not poopie side down- thank goodness!) I head upstairs and find poopie wipes in the diaper pail, poop smears on the chair and put all the information together to figure out he has removed his diaper and tried to clean himself off. At least he didn't just play in it. At least he was trying to do something right. This is what I'm telling myself as I scrub him down in the shower (which he didn't even need! I'd just given him a shower the night before!). All I can say is yuck, eww, nasty, gross. I felt like I was smelling poop the rest of the day. And that is how I spent a good part of my Wednesday afternoon.