Hazmat

dawn — Thu, 28 May 2009 18:20:05 +0000

[Disclaimer: This story is YUCKY. If you are feeling delicate, don't read it. You've been warned.]
When Annabella was 2, I would not have left home without a diaper bag packed with at least 4 diapers, a full pack of wipes, 2 changing pads, 1 bottle, snacks and at least one change of clothes, right down to the socks.
Now, there is Redding. I am literally a day late and a dollar short.
Around 2, I dropped the kids at the Y, so Annabella could enjoy her tumbling class from 2 – 2:45 and Redding could enjoy playing with the little kids. I went upstairs to the workout area. The moment I got settled with my ipod, water, and magazine on a Precor machine, I got paged down to the child care area.
I stopped by my locker and picked up one of the two diapers in my bag, and the mostly empty pack of wipes. This was by no means enough ammo to take on the situation I found myself in.
Apparently Redding drank some of the sandy water from the sand and water table this morning. How do I know? It’s happened before. What happens when Red drinks from the sand table? Why, he poops a river of mess that no diaper can contain. Down the legs, up the back, it goes on and on.
It had already soaked through his jeans, from buns to knees when I got there. As I tried to get him changed, it soaked through the back of his shirt.
I contained the damage as well as I could, removing the jeans, soiling the clean diaper I brought with me… I begged one of the staffers to hold his hand and keep him standing while I retrieve by bag. I was hoping for some major super duper mommy diaper bag voodoo. I was willing there to be more wipes, extra diapers, and some clothes… All I found was one more clean diaper.
I managed to get his tshirt off him without making the situation worse. Once the shirt was off, I used paper towels to clean his exposed skin and the outside of his diaper. Once that was accomplished, I took the now dirty diaper off him and tried to wrangle him into the clean one. Did I mention he was standing? Yep. And just as I got the dirty diaper completely off him and into the diaper pail, he began to pee, a lot, all over. Thankfully, he missed his shoes and socks.
So, then, once he finished and I got the clean diaper on him, I began cleaning up his pee. All the while filling with dread about how I was going to get him out of there, and how I was going to draw it out so that Annabella could finish her tumbling class.
They had no clothes around for emergencies, and I surely don’t blame them. Not even a shirt from lost and found. So I ran into Annabella’s class and borrowed her sweatshirt.
We managed to make it through the next 20 minutes without dying of mortification or pooping on anything else. Bel finished her class and we headed home.
This afternoon, I’m cleaning my diaper bag and packing it with an eye to emergencies.

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Hazmat