Tru had a bad case of the runs all of yesterday. Two packs of poop a day is standard fare for him (a huge one after his morning milk feed and a mid-sized one during, yes DURING his lunch) considering how much food and non-food items go into his system.

But yesterday, he gave mama 4 packs of funky poop to spice up my otherwise boring Monday.

I put him down for his afternoon nap after getting him all fed and bathed (2 packs of poop – check) and as usual, he was performing his daily battle cry in his cot for a good 20 minutes. I didn’t think much of it, having drowned out his shrieks as ambient sound, but this time, the shrieks got increasingly loud until until it started sounding like a siren.

When I went in to check on him, I honestly didn’t know whether to laugh or bawl. The little guy got his thighs stuck between the poles of his wooden cot and his legs were sticking out, flailing wildly. (note: he’s been eating TOO MUCH FOOD!) And thanks to his incessant wriggling, his diaper had gotten loose so the crap was smeared all over his mattress and there he was, looking all helpless sitting in a pile of poop.

It probably sounds hilarious now, but right there, I felt like I had utterly failed as a mother. I would have taken a photo, but it would break your heart, and I might get hauled off to prison for child abuse.

So I cleaned him up and hugged him real tight and apologized like a million times. I felt so bad that his poor thighs were all red and sore, but he started giggling and held my face, which made me feel even worse cos he was such a sweetie-pie for consoling me after I left him stranded.

Strike 1 for mommy.

Then in the evening, I was at the library tutoring my student so Superdad had to take over the night duties. 10 minutes in, I got a call saying that Tru was SCREAMING uncontrollably, and he refused to drink his milk (IMPOSSIBLE) and could not be pacified at all. Apparently Superdad lost some of his powers and also his sanity, and my two boys were in a frenzy of panic together.

Great, a mother’s worst nightmare.

I wrapped up my tutoring session and flew back as fast as I could, beating 3 red lights on the way back (I’m a totally safe and law-abiding driver, serious).

Anyway, back home, Tru was alternating between kneeling down and squatting on the bed wailing so Superdad had a stroke of genius. It’s probably his ass that hurt. When he opened up his diaper, the poor boy’s bum was all red and swollen like a baboon’s bottom. Actually it was covered with brownish-green poop, so he couldn’t really tell at first, but my little trooper who has a bum of steel was screaming for dear life, so it was pretty obvious he was in real pain.

A quick wash, a generous dollop of diaper cream and a lot of hugging later, he finally fell asleep.

Strike 2 for mommy.

All in all, not the best of days.