We don't play with poop!

Warning: Don't read this post if you have a weak stomach! Also, please do not read if you'll go all judgy-McJudgerson on me about this. :) If you don't have children or aren't into the lovely toddler years yet, someday you'll understand.

We had a busy day yesterday, which led to a very late afternoon nap for Cbear. Sometimes this spells disaster, because she's super wound up from being overly tired. Still, it's better than skipping the nap altogether so when we got home at about 3:00 I put her to bed. I heard her playing back there for a LONG time, but finally it was quiet and I sighed with relief that the nap would happen. Around 4:30 I was in the hallway near her room and I smelled something foul...then had a moment of dread when I peeked into Cbear's room. Sure enough, the odor was coming from there. The kind that knocks you over and makes you want to gag. Slowly I walked over to her crib, afraid of what I might find. Here was the situation: I found an empty pull-up, but with the contents smeared all over the bed, pillow, blanket, and Cbear herself. And there, sleeping peacefully like an angel, was the culprit, with a nugget of poo in her hand.

Ewewewewewewwwww! I never thought my child would be "that kid" and here she was, in all her stinky glory. Where did I go wrong? Who in their right mind would do such a thing? I don't know, but I cleaned everything up as best I could...not a task I enjoyed, by the way. When I was done, she was still sleeping so I let her, but promptly put her in the bath tub as soon as she woke up. I'm sure that was a rude awakening for her..."WE DO NOT PLAY WITH POOP...EVER!!!  Now get in the tub, we have to wash off all this nasty stuff." Neither one of us enjoyed the tearful (on her part, although I kind of wanted to cry about it, too) bath but it was obviously necessary. I really hope I got the message across because that is not an episode I want to repeat.

Later in the evening, my sister was here and Cbear was telling the story, something about playing in poop and it was yucky, so hopefully she understood.  And after I had washed all the bedding and her stuffed Curious George (who was a little smelly himself), I gave him back to her and she exclaimed, "I'm so happy!". So it appears that neither of us are scarred for life, thank goodness.