Hey everyone, Nurturing Daddy here. I have to admit, I am posting this with some reservations. I don't want to be type-cast or pigeonholed into blogging about one topic, but this latest story has been replaying in my mind since it happened 3 days ago and so I have to share it. Maybe it will help in the healing process, maybe not.
So we took our little one to her ISR class. ISR stands for Infant Swim Rescue. Basically it teaches your child, from infant on up, to essentially rescue themselves in case they accidentally fall into a pool or other body of water. Our 18 month old is just now concluding the program after about 7 to 8 weeks of intensive swim training with the last 2 classes testing how they react if they have to do everything they learned fully clothed. She can now flip to her back and float, giving her time to breathe and then swim to the stairs or the side of the pool so she can be pulled out. I have to tell you it was absolutely amazing to see her progress and now to see the final product. I mean, wow! The only thing is, it is not easy training, and some of the kids, mine included, scream their heads off and cry during some of their lessons and can't wait to be laid out on the towel by the side of the pool so they can relax after the lesson. Its not always easy to watch, but the results are amazing. This, however, is not why I'm writing, just setting the scene for you guys.
Anyway, we are at ISR lessons, getting D ready for her 2nd to last class. We were getting ready to change her into her clothes before the lesson and D very urgently let us know she had to go potty. So we broke out the Dora potty she loves and set it down. I had checked her diaper before putting her in the car to drive to the lesson and again once we got there and we were all clear so a couple minutes later when D gave us the cue that it was time to "go" I simply passed her off to Becky to put on the potty.
So Becky is sitting in a chair facing the pool and positions the potty behind the mother of the child who has the lesson before. The mom has 2 white towels arranged to accept her little guy after his lesson so he can lay down and dry off. The potty is facing the pool because D loves to watch the other kids swim and will often even clap for them. She is such a sweet child and is so funny too. Anyway, the potty is positioned and Becky starts to take off the diaper and as she takes it off an almost perfectly spherical ball of poop goes flying through the air. There is nothing I could do, it all happened so fast. This clementine sized ball of feces has gone airborne and yet seems to be traveling in slow motion towards the pool, the towel, and the mom waiting for her baby. There is nothing to do but wait to see where it lands. I remember praying in the split second that this poop missile was nearing its final destination, "Please let it land on concrete, please!" But no dice. Becky and I watch in horror as a nicely laid out towel became soiled with toddler poop, and not from the toddler to whom the towel belonged.
At that point a second thought ran through my head. How the heck (I thought a different 4 letter word in the moment) are we going to explain to this woman how a ball of toddler poop ended up right beside her on her nice white towel.
Thankfully Becky sprang into action and the explanation and barrage of apologies began. Thankfully this woman was more than understanding. She was so cool and chill about our daughters doody, we were relieved. We couldn't have hoped to have unintentionally thrown poop at a nicer woman and I learned a valuable lesson.
Be chill, sometimes $#*t happens.