Okay never in my lifetime have I ever experienced something so nasty as the explosion my son had this weekend at a friends house. Yes, at a friends house! We were invited to a friends house for an evening BBQ and drinks. We haven't seen our friends in quite some time as they live a few hours from us. The BBQ was a great way to get to see everyone and since kids would be there it would be a perfect opportunity for our son to get in some playtime and my husband and I a few cocktails. Little did we know what was about to happen at this party would be a good lesson learned for all who attended. There is a moral to the story.
Once arriving at the BBQ bash I quickly popped a beer and looked over and my husband was doing the same. My son on the other hand was in the other cooler reaching for a juice box. At every party that I have ever attended with kids, the juice boxes are the life of the party. The problem is that at the age of two kids don't know the difference between drinking one juice box or twenty...It's all the same to them, FREE SUGAR! This happens to be my son's weakness, Num Num's or anything that contains sugar! Of course when you're at a party having a good time and living it up with friends, you don't worry about the sugar content. You figure that you're outside and they can run the sugar off and let the kid live a little. I mean you're having beer and enjoying yourself, why not the kids too? Well, I will tell you why.
My son was hanging out in the sandbox with the two older kids at the party (they were five) and I noticed that the kids were waving for my attention. I looked over and they were screaming that my son had just thrown sand all over them. I yelled over to him, "Don't throw sand or you will go in timeout." I took another chug of my beer and looked around to see if my husband was near. Again the kids came running over, "He did it again". Okay so I went back over there and a horrible smell started to blow pass my nose. Hmmm, he must have pooped so I picked him up kicking and screaming and carried him over to the house. He had sand all over his legs and arms and it looked as though it wasn't going to easily come off so I laid him down on the cement. I grabbed my diaper bag and thought about how he should be potty trained by now and what the hell was I doing changing a kid as big as me. After that thought, I pulled down his pants as he screamed that the cement was cutting his back and found that the poop wasn't exactly solid. In fact this poop was down his leg and dripping out of his pants (I hope your not eating dinner as you read this). I quickly grabbed about 20 wipes and started to cringe as I wiped up the liquid (no mother should have to clean up a mess like this on her own). I couldn't find my husband anywhere so I continued to juggle the diaper, the wipes and the diarrhea all on my own. Needless to say, it took me about 15 minutes to get the entire thing cleaned and under control.
Five beers later it was time for dinner and dessert. I went to look for my son, who I found in the house watching one of the older boys going pee. The older boy was screaming for him to get out of the room and my little one was laughing and yelling for me to come and see. I quickly grabbed him and told him that he should take lessons from that kid and start peeing on the toilet too. He just laughed and said, "Mommy, I love you too". Well, that wasn't quite what I said to him but it worked and I let him down to play in the yard.
My son didn't eat much of his dinner but wanted to try some of the cheesecake that my husband made for the party. I let him try it since his father did make it and was complaining that nobody was eating it. That was probably my biggest mistake that night besides not monitoring the juice box intake. I noticed that he was running off with another juice box and that would be about 5 juice boxes that I witnessed him actually sipping on.
The table was segregated into two sides, those who had children and those who were watching and deciding if they were ever going to have children. I think by the end of the day, my son sealed the deal for many of them...they all probably stopped at the store to buy condoms on the way home. They watched from their side of the deck as I wondered over to the small playhouse to see why my son was hunched down and not coming out. He seemed to be stuck in the house and waved at me when I asked him what was wrong. Little did I know what was about to happen! I rushed over to see what was going on and noticed that the other kids had kind of cleared out of the house and that is when the smell hit me. It was a cross between vomit and diarrhea. Maybe the worst smell I have experience in a long, long time! Yeah it was for sure the worst. I wondered if one of the kids had shit in the playhouse so I looked around but didn't see anything. I asked my son if he pooped his pants and he said, "Nope". Then he turned around and I noticed from the side that his shirt was soaked and I didn't remember anyone having water. As he slowly turned, I could see the chunks of poop hanging from his back and all the way to his hairline. I almost screamed! I panicked for a minute as I had never seen anything quite like it before. He was covered! I looked for my husband and then looked around at the faces of all the couples who didn't have kids and wondered how they would react to this scene. I went to the friend who's house we were at and told her that I might need some help. Again, no husband in site. Our friend quickly got all of the kids out of the playhouse and escorted me to the bathroom. I stopped to give the others a preview of motherhood at its best and I saw the faces turn as they saw the explosion up close. It was bad! I mean BAD!
Now looking back I think it would have been better to just hose the kid down in the yard before attempting to bring them into someone else's house but you do what's best at the moment. My son was fine after a bath and complete scrub down. I finally found my husband eating cheesecake in the backyard and told him the same story that I told you. He chuckled as my son ran past him all clean and ready for another juice box. I guess my lesson was learned that day to never ever mix cheesecake with 5-10 (who knows how many) juice boxes as it leads up to an experiment that nobody wants to have to deal with and especially at a friends house. It's all just part of the fun of being a mom.