Since Gila Man’s schedule changed from days to swings (YAY!!!), we were both able to go pick up Mr. B from preschool this afternoon. As we walked through the big double doors we could see two teachers standing outside the classroom and both had white latex gloves on.
“Performing a little surgery, huh?” Gila Man asked her.
“No, just cleaning up after a day of accidents.” she replied.
Thinking about how hard it must be for these little guys to get back in the swing of things after a fun-filled Christmas vacation, we walked back to the room where the kids were waiting to be picked up. But as we walked around the corner, we could see that Mr. B coming out of the room, which is weird because the teachers never let the kids out unless the parent is there to pick them up. I asked him what he was doing and he said his teacher told him to wait there for her…and as I was standing there talking to him and signing him out, the smell of stinky accidents came wafting out of the preschool room. And it was BAD.
Fighting back my already sensitive gag reflex, I grabbed Mr. B’s hand and started back down the opposite way while he started jabbering about some incident from the playground. Then he said, “Momma, I think I had a little accident.”
I froze. Changing baby diapers is one thing, but dealing with 4-year-old stinkiness is something else.
“Do we need to go to the restroom?” I asked.
“Yeth, we sure do Momma.” he said.
Thinking that it was no big deal, I snatched his “accident bag” out of his cubby and headed to the bathroom. While in there, I passed one of the other teachers with a toddler and similar bag in tow. “Oooooooohhhh,” I said when I saw her, “One of THOSE accident days.”
“Yep, lots of those. Poor little guys.” she said.
We headed for the extra large stall and I started assesing the situation. It took me all of 5 seconds to realize that this was no regular, simple, little accident. It took 7 seconds to understand that there was no shower here, which is what this kid needed right then. Then it took me a full 10 more seconds to talk myself out of panic mode and just start doing what needed to be done – which was a HUGE cleanup job.
All I can say is that I used flushable toddler wipes (that teacher Claudia very kindly and graciously provided) to clean up a stinky mess that ranged from the waistband of my son’s jeans to the very bottom of his messy, stinky, poop-covered socks. There was nothing else to do but turn my head, take a breath, wipe a spot, toss the wipe in the toilet, turn my head, take another breath, and start again.
After I got him cleaned up enough to sit on the toilet to finish doing his business, I asked him what had happened and why he hadn’t told a teacher that he needed to go potty.
“Well, I was on the playground after lunch and my tummy was telling me ‘Ouch! This hurts, get that poop outa here’, but I didn’t think my teacher would let me go to the toilet, so I just let out a little toot-toot, and out came some poop. But Momma, I didn’t think it would ALL come out!”
So now we are home and bathed and completely poop free with another accident bag by the door waiting to head back to his cubby. But next time, I think I’ll just find a water hose!!
Livin' Life On The Lamb 