Due to the graphic nature of this post, viewer discretion is advised.  Rated G for gross!

Let me set the stage: When your active toddler is quite for more than 28 seconds in a bathroom with the door closed, the alarm in your head should go off that this is NOT good news.

While I was nursing Savanna this afternoon, Joshua told me he wanted to use the potty and he wanted some privacy.  So I said ok, go ahead.  Once I finished nursing Savanna, I went to check on Joshua.  I couldn’t hear much behind the closed bathroom door.  I thought, “Uh oh.  What’s happening?”

As I opened up the bathroom door, the sight (and smell) in front of me was horrific!  I don’t even know where to start processing the information presented to me.

There is only one way to sum it all up: there was poop e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e!

I have no idea what happened.  He was sitting on the floor buck naked, with a wad of toilet paper in his hands, wiping his left foot that clearly stepped in poop.  He had poop on his hands, down his legs, and up his back.  There was poop on his shirt and his pants and his underwear.  Then there was poop smeared on the toilet seat.  There was poop smeared on the wall.  There was poop in his little potty.  There was a lot of poop on the tile, and ground into the grout.  There was poop on the bath matt.

Did I say there was poop everywhere?

“Joshua! What happened?” I said, trying to suppress the shock in my voice.

I said, “Did you have an accident?”

He said, “Yeah.”

I said, “Did you poop in your potty?”

He said, “Yeah.”

I said, “Did you poop in your underwear?”

He said, “Yeah.”

I couldn’t get a straight answer from him.  It’s not like it would have mattered what the hell happened.  I can barely figure out what to do next!

I put Savanna in the exersaucer in the living room to contain her.  I grabbed a roll of toilet paper to start picking up and wiping off the poop from the hard surfaces.  It was disgusting.  Savanna started to cry.  Joshua was still sitting buck naked on the floor, attempting to wipe the poop off his foot.  I looked at him and thought it was a lost cause trying to wipe him clean.  I picked him up and put him in the bath tub, and just washed him from head to toe.  I could hear Savanna now starting to scream.  I dried off the stinky boy, put some fresh clothes on him, and went back to clean the bathroom.  I was exasperated and trying not to gag.

I was traumatized.  I wanted to suck on my thumb and rock back and forth in a fetal position.

After lots of swearing and anti-bacterial sprays, I finished cleaning the bathroom.  I can’t think of many more things I hate than cleaning up poop.  Savanna had been wailing the entire time, adding to the stress of it all.

We sat down to eat dinner.  I picked at my food, while holding Savanna in my left arm, and starred out the window.  I just needed to blank out and breathe.

Joshua noticed that I was looking out the window, so he asked me, “Mommy, are you looking outside?”

I said as calmly as I could, “Yeah, I just needed to calm down, baby.”

Joshua said, “Mommy, are you sad?”

I said, “Yes, baby.  I don’t like cleaning up poop.”

Then his voice dropped and mellowed, “Sorry, Mommy.”  He looked down at his tray.  That little “sorry” and sad look broke my heart.  It’s not like he was purposely trying to piss me off.  I sighed, and I said, “It’s alright.  I forgive you.  I’m not mad at you; I’m just mad at the situation.”  He gave me this look like he understood what I was saying.

I told you viewer discretion is advised.