Diaper Jello

You know, there are many things none of us knew about until we had kids of our own. The least of these is definitely diaper jello.
I usually, well always, hate full diapers on my kids. It makes me feel like a bad mom. But you know, if conjuring up dozens of disapproving eyes keeps me in check, I welcome my neurosis.
But today was an exciting day. It's Thursday, which means, MamaKat's Writers workshop day. I go and I read everyone's blog and comment. Because, well, the Golden Rule! I want everyone to read mine!
Well, today was extra exciting. MamaKats, my total idol (don't tell her, she might get scared) picked MY writing prompt! Yes, MINE. And I wanted to read everyone's take on my subject; Why My Mom is Not Invited to Read My Blog.
So, Kendyl's whole nap, I've been... err... occupied. Tyler wants juice? Sure, here you go, kid. Thanks for being so good.
I think I've exited mom-blog world for nothing but juice refills, cracker hand-outs and DVRed Blue's Clues restarting. And..... my bottle of OceanSpray veggie/fruit juice is half empty. It was full this morning, and it's a 64oz bottle.
Then I noticed the trail. Little white crumbs of... you guessed it... diaper Jello.
If you don't know what this is, you are luckier than I. It's mostly experienced in the summer time, when you don't have any Little Swimmers and you've taken the kids in the pool. I guess it's also normal when your kid has had 32oz of juice (1/2 and 1/2... so a full 64oz of liquid) in the 3 hours that his little sister has been napping, and he has been left to be raised by wolves. (Or at least Steve and his puppy, Blue)
This stuff is notoriously hard to pick up, difficult even to vacuum. It's moist, because it's the absorbant stuff that fills the diaper. The same stuff is inside maxi-pads.
I felt like the world's worst parent.
I changed the diaper first, and then walked through the house, picking up as many of the little pieces as I could grab through the carpet fibers.
The worst of it was all in my husband's favorite TV chair. I got it clean enough that maybe he wont notice. I'm not sure if he'd know what it was. But still.
I think the world worst mom award might look something like this:

But then at least the mom in the picture is changing her child's frickin' diaper.
Oh, and of course, what do I do after the crisis is over? I go back to the computer and blog about it.