Poop

It's been a big day here at the Miller home. Well, I guess any day where we're not all laid up watching Sesame Street for the 18th hour in a row is a pretty big day. This morning we went out to breakfast. When we came home Ben and I went to spend some time with Brandi and Adalee while Matt did his half of the housework (well, at least half of his half). It was loads of fun because the mini besties haven't been able to hang out for a long long time since the outbreak. They LOVE each other. They're one, so they stink at sharing and they fight over toys and mama's attention fairly frequently. But if one minute they're pushing each other off the toy stroller, the next they're hugging and open-mouth kissing. Baby BFFs, I tell you. This morning had the added bonus of me maybe finding a new person to cut my hair. Super score.

Ben and I went home after about 45 minutes. Matt and I relayed it and switched off. I changed my clothes and came out to Ben holding Matt's iTouch with one of the earbuds in his ear. And of course he was dancing.

(he looks like a gangsta because 18 month clothes are just a smidge too small, and 24 month clothes are pretty big)

Matt took Ben outside to play while I did my half (my whole half) of the housework. After I'd cleaned a couple of rooms and thrown in a load of laundry, my baby daddy and super puddle jumper came in covered in water and mud. So while I ran the muddy clothes down to the washer Matt put him in a new outfit (a black and silver shirt with navy blue pants--matching is for suckers). After I cleaned the kitchen I came into the living room and was overpowered by a smell that can only be explained by toxic waste facilities and toddler diapers. So I whisked Ben into his bedroom to change him. This is where it got interesting.

When I went to pull down those navy blue yoga pants, I was struck by the fact I didn't see a diaper. Oh wait, there it is. He'd apparently undone the tabs and pulled his diaper down while his pants were still on. So he had poop-covered pants and a poopy diaper hanging at his knees. I carefully pulled the pants off, at which point Ben whipped his diaper straight off. Poop everywhere. His shirt, the changing table, the wall, his hands...everywhere. Shower time. Then outfit number three. And trip number three to the washing machine. It was noon.

Parenthood.