I’ve always felt really bad for babies for having to wear diapers, they seem so restrictive and uncomfortable. When I change Nicky’s bottom and see the redness and indentations from his diaper, it breaks my heart.  I’ve become a firm believer in “Air Out Time.” A few minutes of naked-bumness between diaper changes allows Nicky’s skin to have some freedom, and I feel much better about putting a diaper on a newly, aired-out bottom than a wet, red bottom.

During Air Out TIme, Nicky runs wild. There’s something about being partially naked that makes little boys extremely hyper-active. The downside to Air Out Time is that I eventually have to corral the child to put a new diaper on him. This can be tedious work since Nicky is a mega wiggle worm, and I often have to resort to holding him down with one of my legs while fastening his diaper only to have him run off with a butt cheek hanging out.

This morning when I got Nicky out of bed, I let him run around naked for a while before bathing him. As he chased the cat around the house, I took care of some paperwork in the kitchen. As I was sitting at the counter signing documents, something seemed wrong. I glanced over at Nicky and two things were happening:

1. Nick had taken a newly purchased strawberry plant off the kitchen table and was plucking it’s leaves and scooping the dirt out of the pot…

2. …while squatting and pooping on the living room floor.

I tried not to panic, but I needed to do something. My mind was slow to react, and for a moment, I just sat there staring Nick in the eye. It was then that Nick started crying hysterically. I think he realized that something had gone wrong, and it scared him. This was, after all, his first poop outside of a diaper, and perhaps the sensation was overwhelming.

I went to pick Nicklaus up, but he screamed louder and started running away from me.

Yes, he stepped in his poop.

Yes, he ran into the kitchen leaving little foot-shaped smears on the linoleum.

When I finally caught up to him, I picked him up and went straight to the bathroom. Nicky was hysterical. I couldn’t do anything to console him. I had to bathe and dress him while he screamed uncontrollably.

Apparently pooping in the living room is very traumatic for a sixteen-month-old.

After Nicklaus was dressed, I continued to cradle him and tell him it was ok, but he was still really upset. I ended up giving him a bottle because it was the only thing I could think of to calm him down. He went right to sleep and has been asleep ever since.

Not only is pooping in the living room a very traumatic experience, evidently, it is also exhausting.