What's with this shit?

I am, I think, a somewhat easy going Mom about the gross parts of parenting.

• I've cleaned more feces off walls than the zookeeper on chimp duty.
• I've been puked on enough times that I can break the smell of vomit down into categories: dairy, meat, fruit or veggie. I can tell if that puke is violent cough induced or if it's stomach bug sick.
• I've pulled little fingers out of noses, replete with gooey green things and found the nearest disposable paper to wipe them on. I've watched my "girly-girl" four year old pop a booger in her mouth and tell me it's good.

And yet, I think Kev may have bested me.

Three times in as many days he has shat his diaper. Fine. That's what he does, I'm ok with it. I would happily clean it up. But no, he somehow manages to dislodge his diaper so that it's hanging between his knees while his pants are still up. Therefore, the insides of his thighs become coated in crap, the insides of his pants become coated in crap, pulling his shin/foot out of the pants/diaper/crap ensemble creates more skin covered in crap.

There aren't enough wipes in the world to get him clean before he starts clamoring on me (and we wonder why Mommy has so many shirts in the wash each week?) to get a book, a ball or whatever isn't decorated with body art.

It used to be that Kev would cease all movement and grunt audibly when he pooped. I think I need to feed him more cheese because now it's no big deal - I have no clue when he poops and he somehow pulled off today's surprise while no more than 5 feet from me since waking up.

So anyway, good times. This'll be my second shower in 2 hours because I have the unmistakeable stench about me. And while I may be ok with vomit, poop, boogers in regards to my kids, I'd rather not people wonder if I've messed my own pants.

Brownies, anyone?