March 10, 2011


This morning, Eliot was throwing a tantrum about getting milk with his breakfast. Which is fine, I would be happy to get him some milk, but he just launched into, "I want milk! I want milk, mama!!!" yelling it and crying. We only get him things if he asks nicely and calmly. So I told him that, but he couldn't hear me. And I had just woken up. So I walked out of the room because his crying really is hurting my ears. He keeps crying. I go back to tell him he needs to ask nicely. No dice. I tell him it's time for a timeout. I put him in his crib for a timeout. I smell poop. I ask him if I can change his diaper. No. So I leave. I come back, and he says, "Poo-poo in the bed." What? Yes, the poop has leaked out his diaper, down his leg, and on to the bed. UUGGGGHHHHHH! So disgusting. The most disgusting poop experience I've had yet with a kid, and that's saying a lot since we use cloth diapers and wash them at home. I am up close and personal with my kids' poop. (And this poop, incidentally, leaked out of a disposable diaper, not a cloth diaper. My kids have as many, if not more, leaks/accidents with disposables as with cloth.)

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