Poop Party or How I Know I Love My Children

So, this morning I go into Jocelyn's room to wake her as usual, and I notice a highly unpleasant smell emanating from her playpen (which is where she sleeps since the movers broke her crib). Now a baby's room never smells that great after a long night of defacating in their pants; howeve, today's smell was a little stronger than usual. Of course, Jocelyn wants to be picked up immediately, and I, in my sleepy stupor, bend down and pick her right up without noticing anything out of the ordinary. I quickly realize that something is terribly wrong. It seems that somehow during the night, Jocelyn hs managed to get her diaper off and all tha lovely defacating she normally does in there is now all over the playpen, her blankets, her body, and now mine.

So, I do what any loving mommy would do when she notices her baby is covered in sh*t, I totally freak out. Of course, today is the day that Tim went to pick up Tommy and Vanessa, so I have no other adult to assist me despite the factthat I now have baby poop on my face and in my hair. I can't put Jocelyn down on the floor b/c we would get sh*t on the carpet; I can't put her bckin the playpen b/c it has sh*t smeared all over the inside, and I can't put her in the bathtub b/c I can't leave her alone in there while I clean up. So I have to carry her around with me while I get more and more sh*t wiped over various other parts of my body while I clean up the rest of the room. Then I have to give her a bath, clean the remaining sh*t out of tub, scrape the sh*t off the blankets, put those and the towels in the wash, carefully inspect the carpet in her room for any signs of sh*t, and hose out the playpen all while I continue to have SH*T IN MY HAIR!!! Ahem, sorry about that.

After all that is done (and I spray Lysol air fresher everywhere and vacuum the carpet with carpet freshner), I notice how cute Jocelyn looks in her new little outfit. That's right, despite having a complete poop party this morning, those mommy instincts do not allow you to get mad at your kids, but instead notice how really cute they are when they are learning to stand without assistance. Damn those mommy genes!