The ONE parenting hack you need to know! You won’t BELIEVE what you’ll learn! EVERY PARENT MUST KNOW THIS!
Yes, this title is clickbait. Yes, this topic is disgusting. But, as I sit here in my dim living room, craving, just craving a glass of wine followed by a long, uninterrupted night of sleep, I have to admit, I DO know the number one, absolute and smartest way to clean $hit out of the bathtub.
Stop bathing your kids.
I mean, really. If they aren’t toilet trained you can give them baths with baby-wipes just fine. How dirty do they get anyway? Sure, once they are crawling and toddling and picking up dirt and trying to eat the playground bark and prefer eating by their hands and they end each day with grime on their fingers and feet and necks, you’d need at least two dozen wipes per kid, but, at least you won’t find yourself scooping poop out of a tub with a very unfortunate plastic robot cup to the sounds of screaming children in the background.
So, if you feel like bathing is sorta essential, having a game plan in mind when poo happens is smart. I’ve learned through experience you should always scoop the log out of the bath, before you drain the tub. When your daughter has loose bowels it’s not as easy is that, but you can still get the biggest turds that way. Having long rubber gloves is essential, as is a bottle of bleach-infused cleaner.
I prefer Fantastik.
I think I’m high from the fumes right now.
Because, when you are the only parent present, and you have to boogie two babies out of the poop-tub, you’ll find you HAVE to shut the bathroom door when you clean the tub, otherwise the baby will crawl around you and try to splash their tiny hands in the poop-water and the older toddler, who really should know better by now, will scream “MORE BATH!” on repeat at volume level 10.
What really inspires this post is the fact I went through this exact same scenario just last night. Two happy babies splashing in the bath, a moment where I realize the water looks cloudy, and then the horror of seeing poop particles floating around their happy little baby butts.
And then, tonight, the encore performance.
I even warned L, “No POOPING” tonight.
“No pooping!” she agreed, nodding her little blond head, putting a chubby toddler leg in the water.
I’m pretty sure she’s the culprit, just because H has insanely soft bms and what came out tonight had form, oh and the fact when I yelled, “DID YOU JUST POOP” she said in the happiest, sweetest voice, “I Pooped!”. I may have yelled at her, something I rarely do, and she just looked at me with big innocent eyes, and then went to her little training potty and pooped some more, so, yay?
The moral of this story is this: sometimes bedtime can’t come quick enough, and sometimes a glass of wine needs to be bottomless, and sometimes your best friend is not a person, but a very well-loved bottle of bleach with happy little scrubbing bubble cartoons trying to cheer your night up.