The day started really well. Chloe woke early and cheerful, so all four of us had breakfast together this morning. Maya got dressed and ready with a minimum of fuss, and Jeff took her cheerfully off to school. I settled Chloe in to play in the family room while I got busy tidying the kitchen, starting the ground beef for some spaghetti sauce simmering, and doing some other cooking. (I'm feeling domestic this week, and stocking our freezer). I was applauding myself for doing such a good job and getting ready to sit down with a cup of coffee when Chloe started crying.
I figured she was ready for some attention, so I scooped her up. She continued crying even when I was cuddling her, so I headed for the couch planning to nurse her. As I was sitting down with her on my lap, I noticed the front of her shirt and pants were covered in oatmeal from breakfast. Then I remembered she didn't eat oatmeal at breakfast today. At which point I noticed her hands were also brown. The light was beginning to dawn, and I flipped her over only to have my suspicions confirmed: after 4 years of parenting, I had my first hands-in-the-poop-that-had-exploded-out-of-the-diaper incident. We quickly stood back up, and I tried to hold her away from my body in order to carry her upstairs, but she renewed her crying with increased vigour, and started desperately clawing at me, trying to get closer. Resigned to the inevitable, I held her to my chest and dashed up the stairs.
Upstairs, I started the water in the tub and then headed for the nursery to strip her naked on the change pad. At this point I was able to ascertain that there wasn't actually all that much poop, it had just managed to travel quite a bit. It look like, having gotten her hands dirty, she did her best to try and wipe them clean on her clothes. I returned to the bathroom with a naked and still screaming baby. After checking the water, I managed to pry her out of my arms and set her down in the tub, with the shower hose attachment at the ready. But Chloe was still refusing to be pried from my arms, and now I had a near-hysterical little baby clutching me with still-poopy hands. I had already realised that my clothes would be going into the wash, but now realised her hands were clutching at my naked arms below my short sleeved shirt and I realised that I might as well shower myself too. So out she came from the tub and it was my turn to strip naked. Together we stepped into the shower.
Normally, Chloe loves the shower. Today, she didn't seem enthralled. Her cries subsided, but she continued to grumble and clutch tightly to Mommy. I finally sat down with her in the bottom of the tub and she immediately threw herself sideways into my lap and latched on to nurse. She gave one last sob, closed her eyes, and with a great big sigh relaxed into me. And that's where we stayed for the next 20 minutes, until we were ready to emerge from our warm refuge and try re-starting our day.
I think it'll be awhile before the next time I get lazy and grab a disposable from the change table instead of walking down the stairs to get the clean cloth diapers from the laundry room. My cloth diapers are much more effective at containing messes. I think I got away lightly this time ... Chloe hadn't wandered, and there was only a small trace of poop on the carpet. I never did get my morning cup of coffee, though.