Boot cut, trousers, skinny jeans and jeggings- when shopping for pants, the possibilities for style and comfort are vast. But as a mom, I have learned that my baby's pants exist mainly to be a poop-to-floor shield.
Last night we were playing with the CeCe-Bear in our carpeted living room, the usual games of "Peek-a-boo," "I'm Gonna Catch You!" and "Get That Out of Your Mouth." In her efforts to walk, Ce's pants seemed to be quite the obstacle. Because her belly wears 12 month clothes, but her legs are only 9 months long according to Carter's standards, we have an excess of fabric that tends to trip the baby.
My solution was to just remove the pants and let the child run free. Her solution was to immediately have a poo-splosion, but do so discreetly and steathily.
I was unaware my child's diaper had sprung a leak until I noticed a splotch on the floor. I used my stand-by cleaning technique of swiping my foot against the spot to determine texture, stickiness, and how many paper towels I would need.
"Matt. Is this poop? Matt. This is poop."
Because CeCe takes about six steps before falling on her behind, I looked around to discover a trail of poo across the living room. Smear of brown ... two feet of clean ... smear of poo ... two feet of clean ... I was able to chart her path around the room and must say she is getting very good at making turns.
Matt opted to clean the baby while I took care of the carpet. (Well first I hopped into the bathroom on one foot to clean my soiled sole.) Just another glamorous parenting moment in action.
I love this smile on my little stinker: