The Poop Post

I just finished loading the washer.  I tell you this not because it's exciting, because obviously it's not.  I don't tell you, dear reader, this so you can know the mundane details that make up my everyday.


No, no.


I'm telling you that I just did the most disgusting load of laundry.  Ever.


Let me start over.


Harper and I had a lovely mother/daughter day.  We went to campus and then did a little bit of shopping at the mall to pass time before we went to meet Gramie for lunch.  It was such a a beautiful, cool day out that I decided it was the perfect time to take Harper for her very first trip to the park.  So we went there after lunch.  (In retrospect, she's a bit young for the park)  They had this swing:

This thing looks like I could fit in it (though I did not try) and is somewhat of a torture device.   Look at all those straps for crying out loud! She looks thrilled, doesn't she?  There really wasn't anything to do beside the swing and taking her down a slide, which is a bummer because there were loads of things for older kids to do.  She was more interested in the other kids than the playground.  And my keys and camera.  We actually left the playground area because this one little boy wouldn't leave her alone and kept rubbing her face.  She wasn't exactly happy about that.  So we went to another area of the park so Momma could take pictures.  What else!

{On the playground equipment.  Notice the socks with capris.  Go Mom}

{My momma's so silly!]

{Her new favorite chew toy}

{I'm not sure why she does this, but whenever she's lying down she puffs out her chest}

{Posing with Momma}

{Mmmm...toes}

 This last picture is significant because this is, unbeknownst to me, where the poop happened.  Granted, I knew she was pooping cause Harper is a grunting kind of girl.  She makes it known, lemme tell ya.  So I decided that was a good time to head home, knowing I only had like two wipes in the bag.  I gathered up our things and started walking to the car.  About 3/4ths of the way there I saw the poop on my shirt sleeve.  A lot of it.  And then I looked at Harper and saw it on the back of her shirt and pooling around the top of her diaper.  Yes, I said pooling.  As in LIQUID.

(Let me take a moment her to say that I was going to post about our trip to the mall (to buy a wedding gift...I swear we don't go to the mall this often!) on Friday when she pooped all up the SIDE of herself.  And since she was wearing her back-up outfit already, I had to buy her a new outfit.  I learned my lesson and, therefore, I had TWO outfits in the bag today.  Score one for me.)

So, using my decisive reasoning, I laid the blanket on the ground, sat Harper on it, took my shirt off (thankfully I was wearing tank tops underneath) and ever so gently I peeled off her dripping shirt.  After wiping off her back, I laid her down, whereupon poo got all over the blanket and on her arm.  (Did I mention that I had only two wipes left???)  So I had to hold her left arm and leg (boy did she love that!)  and hoist her up a bit while I tried to clean her off.  All the while, Harper is trying to eat the gravel nearby with her free hand.  Finally, I got her all cleaned up and dressed.  I sat her in her carseat with some toys, bagged up the poo clothes and blanket in one bag; the nasty diaper in another (good thing I had gone to the mall and had bags!)  Since she had been sitting on my lap when the pooing occurred, I looked like I had pooed myself.  And, of course, I had no clothes to change into.  Thankfully I had a jacket in the trunk.  I laid it on the seat for me to sit on and we drove home.

And that, my friends, was my crazy day.