The Calm Before the Poo

Today the girls behaved themselves rather nicely with no major incidents. We had a lovely picnic lunch in our backyard, nap time wasn't too difficult, and we went for a walk. Although they kept stopping every three feet on the walk because someone needed something, there was no fighting or trying to run into the street. When we came home they both wanted to play in the backyard together.

Things were going great. So great, I decided to feed Penny inside the house on the comfort of the couch and leave the girls in the sand box in our fenced backyard with the dog. Our screen door to the back is torn, so to keep Tut inside, I had to close the sliding glass door, leaving it cracked just enough to hear them.

No sooner had Penny latched on, leaving me unable to move around, but I hear a tap at the sliding glass door. I look up from my spot on the couch. It's Sammy.

"Mommy, Ella went poop!" she said.

"Ok, I'll change her diaper after I finish feeding Penny," I called back.

Suddenly, I see Ella at the window. She has removed her pants and is working on her diaper.

"Ella! Ella! NO! Leave your diaper on until I get there! No, no, Ella! Poo poo!" I yell to no avail.

Ella removes one of the diaper fasteners, then pushes the diaper down her leg and steps out of it. I can see the poo smear down her leg. She turns, butt towards the window, I can see she REALLY needs a diaper wipe. She apparently can feel it too and she turns her head to try to see her butt, reaching her hand behind her.

"Ack! Ella, don't touch! Poo poo!" I yell while still feeding Penny.

She stops and looks at me with wide-eyed surprise, "Poo poo?"

"Yes, poo poo! Don't touch anything! Just stand there. I'm almost done," I shout through the window.

Penny finishes, (thankfully she's a quick eater) and I get up and open the door to let the girls inside.

"Ella, go right to the changing table. Don't touch anything and don't sit down," I tell her.

Apparently, that was an invitation to play. She takes off the opposite direction, through the kitchen, squealing as I chase her in a panic, waiting for her to sit down or rub her dirty behind against a wall.

Finally, I catch her and manage to hold her away from me to get her to the changing table. She's kicking me, and when I get her to the table, she squirms and rubs her butt on the pad. Fortunately, no poo went anywhere but her legs and the changing table pad, which changes easily enough.