Growing Up Awesome: Warning: DO NOT EAT BEFORE READING!

Before you look at any of the pictures, read the story. If it doesn't make you gag and/or vomit then take a look at the photos! So, last night before Elvis went to bed I changed him from the onesie I had on him into just a t-shirt because the onsie was way too short on him. I was forced to put just a t-shirt on him because I refused to do laundry on my birthday or the days surrounding...thus, NO clean PJs! Around midnight I drowsily made my way upstairs to bed checking on the kiddos on the way. Elvis was none too happy because his diaper had come halfway off while sleeping. I just fastened it back (maybe not the most thought out decision I've ever made, but I WAS HALF ASLEEP) and went to bed. At 7 am on the dot I was woken up by Ruby next to my bed (oops, I left the gate wide open) saying

"MOOOOOOOOMMMMMYYYY, wake up!"

Nothing weird. She hopped in bed with me and we lay there a while before my eyes popped open in panic at Elvis's whining.

OH MY...was his diaper on? PLEASE LET HIS DIAPER BE ON!

No such luck! The poor baby was naked from the waist down, the diaper cover balled up on his bed and the diaper liner on the floor (he had to have thrown it over the rail himself because it was at least a foot or two away from the bed).

I KNEW this was going to happen! BEFORE I changed him into his t-shirt last night I had a completely clear vision of this happening, but convinced myself I was being insane. You would think, by now I would have learned to listen to my intuition (I've been quite intuitive my entire life). Will I ever learn? I have much doubt.

Prepare yourself! There was poop EVERYWHERE! A big stinking pile of it on his favorite Zutano blankie wedged up against the rails (he must have sat there and pooed), foot prints all over the mattress, and smears of it all over him & his bed! I remained calm outwardly and wanted deep inside to run screaming! I'm getting shaky just typing about it. The only thing I could think of was to clean Elvis off first, so I immediately put him in the bath while calmly but LOUDLY instructing Ruby to

"not touch any of the yucky stinky poop!"

After calling Alex (who was too busy at work to take an hour to come and help me) and my mom (who actually laughed then apologized for laughing at me) for advice, I put both of the kids at the table to eat breakfast: Elvis securely fastened in his high chair in which he stayed for nearly 2 hours while I completed the full clean up. After outfitting myself in a hazmat bandana doused in perfume and a dab of tea tree oil under each nostril, I took all of the sheets and blankie off (his toys were on a non poop part of the bed as if they had seen it all gone down and run for a poo free oasis, poor guys) and brought them outside for a good hosing off! By the time I finished that the kiddos were done with breakfast and Ruby had locked the sliding glass door, my only way back in the house!

"Ruby, sweet girl, please come and unlock the door for Mommy! Right there, that latch right there! YES! GOOD JOB!"

She had no problem unlocking it, thank goodness! The bed needed significant scrubbing down so I perched them in front of the TV like little catatonic parakeets to watch TOY STORY (which they are watching for a second time right now). My hands still smell like bleach, which I never use but am so thankful Alex bought a few months ago. Now the bed is de-pooed, Elvis is clean, but I am completely traumatized and still a little shaky! Hopefully I'll laugh about this sooner than later!