No parent has ever, nor will ever, raise a child and not experience the blow out diaper. It can become so commonplace that you start to develop various methods for dealing with it. Notice the wetness and test the air to see if it’s number one or number two. Then start to pile up the wipes and carefully cleanse any flesh that is exposed. Then begins the extraction of the affected articles of clothing. Now most blowouts tend to go in one of two directions…up or down. If it goes down, most of the mess is dealt with in the precleansing process. The edges of the pants may be soiled and some extra cleaning after the pants are removed may be necessary. But if it goes up, surgical precision is needed to prevent the mess from spreading like the plague. Roll the baby on his/her side and roll the onesie or shirt up underneath so the mess is contained in the clothing and doesn’t smear up their back, neck, and into their hair. Then you must clean up their back without allowing them to squirm onto their back, getting poop all over the surface they’re laying on. Then you must keep their butt up and remove the diaper. Here is where it gets really tricky. You now have to clean the rest of the mess off your kid…while you try to prevent the various limbs from touching and smearing the excrement where you have already cleaned. Here is where the situation arises where a kid decides the grabbing and touching the affected areas is their new mission and so with only two hands you must contain your child, while holding their rear end aloft, and cleaning their bottom. It is a task like no other. Not to mention the various aromas assaulting your senses. It is the most unpleasant experience a parent will likely face…and is worse when children have stomach issues. Because then this experience occurs not occasionally but multiple times a day.
Like yesterday. King Toot had pooped no less than 5 times in 12 hours and of course one of those times I didn’t notice right away. Instead I pick up my little boy and carry him into the hallway only to notice my arm feels wet…and the smell. Ugh, the smell! I look down to the horror of poop smeared all up his back…and all along my arm! After many exclamations of dismay, gasps of despair, and maybe a little sobbing…I emerge clean. I then yell to Sir Smiley that I had poop on my arm! “How on earth am I supposed to prepare for Bible Study and feel the Holy Spirit’s guidance with the memory of poop on my arm seared into my brain.” As I round the corner I then discover Sir Smiley was chatting with our neighbor across the street. Nothing like following up that horrific experience by then declaring the presence of fecal matter on your person to random people in the neighborhood.