Warning: if you cannot handle poop or the discussion thereof, do not read this post. There's your warning. Really, warning.
I'm reading a new book, Unglued. It's really good. I went to the dotMOM conference a week ago and it literally was one of the best conferences I've been to in my entire life. I picked up this book there and today I am in chapter three. The gist: God using situations to chip away at our character to make something beautiful. Chip, chip, chip. Poop situations are alot of my chipping right now.
This morning started early as normal...Caleb needed milk at 6:15 and then at 6:30 he decided it's time for us to get up. Hello, does this kid not get the Saturday morning memo??? Sleep late, let Mom and Dad along with your brother sleep late!! Linley is up not long after. Trying to let John sleep in on a Saturday after a long work week is not the easiest thing to do with a baby crying through the monitor, two boys running through the house screaming, and then boys climbing into the crib playing with their sister all through the monitor. Needless to say, the whole house was up by 7:30. Luckily. I get to go for a run before John has to run errands so out the door I go, not telling anyone goodbye. At the bottom of the steps, there is a brown rock, but wait,it's not a rock. Hold on, Caleb has not been outside yet. Hmmm. The wheels start turning. Ollie has brought up Caleb's poop that he disposed of himself YESTERDAY. Note to self: do not let the dog lick me. What do I do? Fane ignorance and hit the road. That poop will be dealt with later.
Later on in the morning, John has taken the boys to run "Man errands" aka Lowe's, Tractor Supply, and a quick trip for me to Fred's. So, I get to make a mad dash to clean up the house and sweep. Yes, Linley is all over the place and is like our little vaccuum cleaner so I'm having to sweep costantly. I need to mop but wait til the boys get home with our new floor cleaner. Isn't it sad how happy a new cleaner with a new smell can make your day brighter? So, now I get the floor mopped while Linley is napping. (I'm leaving out all the details I have today with our new embroidery machine. Really, if there is anything that could go wrong with a sewing project, this has been it. That's why it's 10 P.M. and I'm just now blogging.) She gets up and I'm at the table working on that daggum sewing project and Linley is crawling around watching the boys play with batman. She, being at this oral-fixation stage (Yeah, you like my ten-cent word?) is chewing on something. It really can't be anything much, I mean, I have swept AND mopped underneath this table just moments before. Well, she spits it out and it looks like mud so I pick it up to throw it away. Hold on, WHAT IS THAT SMELL? It smells like....dog poop!!! Then, I smell the mud, no wait, it's not mud, it's Ollie's poop!!! Okay, this is mind boggling to me due to the fact that I JUST GOT DONE CLEANING!!!! I guess I shouldn't sweep or mop, she hasn't done this before but now that I'm in cleaning mode she gets poop in her mouth. So, a mini-flip out and I rush Linley to the bathroom and clean her mouth out with her toothbrush. IT's time to go to the Banana Festival so I tell Ethan to run out and get John to come in and change. I hear him yelling out the back, "Dad! It's time to go to the parade and get CANDY!!! Guess what LInley just ate? DOG POOP?" Yes, I'm sure John is wonderin gwhat in the world I do with these children and the house all day.
We make it to the Banana Festival where Ethan yells at the people to throw him candy. One man tells the other onlookers, "Sorry, I'm out." Ethan, looks at him and yells, "THAT'S OKAY!!!" Yes, this 40 year old told Ethan thanks for understanding. We ten saw these lightsabers everywhere. Caleb sees one and, being in the Stars Wars mode right now, he says, "I need my lightsaver." So, after the free banana pudding John grabs two lightsabers and we're on our way to Wal-Mart and home. As you can imagine, giving two lightsabers to a 5 and 3 year old boys was pretty entertaining. Finally, we made a rule that you had to turn it off in the van while driving. Yes, in the dark I'm sure our van looked pretty interesting with two lightsabers being swung all over the back. At one point, Linley is crying and Ethan is needed to give her her pacifier. Ethan, being 5, says he can't see it. He can ONLY see it and get it if he uses his lightsaber. Of course you'll do anything to get the crying baby to quit so I cave and say yes. Lightsaber saved the day and pacifier plugged in the mouth.
Bathtime and fighting match time so the boys are playing while we throw Linley in the tub first. I'm fixing her bottle while John is bathing Linley and I look out the window and I see Caleb (this is at 8:30 P.M.) running in the back shed chasing the cats with his lightsaber. Really? The poor cats. Now, Ethan comes running in the kitchen saying, Mom we can't take a bath yet. Me, of course thinking what in the world has happened now. He then informs me that Linley has pooped in the tub. I walk in to assess the situation and John, being the dad, thinks it's quite funny that while bathing Linley she was comfortable enough to poop in the tub. Me, I don't handle poop in water very well so John saved the day and cleaned it up. Ugh.
Now, all are bathed, I'm literally so pooped that I'm laying in the floor of the hallway waiting for John so we can put everyone to bed when I see Ethan run from the kitchen to the living room with his lightsaber screaming, behind him comes Caleb running with his lightsaber, and then behind him crawling on the floor comes Linley after them. This is mayhem. I just laugh my head off. Praise the Lord it's time for bed.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Similarities to cats
We have cats. Several of them. All outside. They serve a purpose: eat mice and moles. My children have an odd relationship with our cats.
You may ask why? Several reasons:
Our cats are somewhat brave/ somewhat stupid. We have Ollie now, and they just hang around letting the dog harrass them and they just swat at him and go on. My children play with the cats. Sometimes, the cats aren't smart enough to run away and hide. For instance, a couple of days ago the boys are outside playing in the yard while I'm watching them from the dining room doing some sewing. All of a sudden, something hits the window. It wasn't a rock. I run outside in a rage and then I see something else flying. It's not our turkeys. Next, comes discipline and a lesson on respecting all of God's creatures. Reasoning, the cat scratched me. My response: I would have scratched you too.
Cats poop outside on the ground, covered up. Today, I walk to the garage after seeing Caleb streak through. What do I find? No, it's not cat poop but kid poop. Are you serious? (I say that alot lately). After cleaning out the "Litter box" of Caleb I see him getting a spoonful of dirt and acting like he is covering up his poop. No, Caleb, you are not a cat, but a boy.
Sidenote: I come inside, I'm working on a project we have going on and the boys, being boys, are banished outside for a time due to their similarity to wild indians while Linley is asleep. So, all of a sudden both boys come marching in the house telling me I had to see something. Uh oh. I walk outside and there, on the roof of the garage, is Ethan's pillow pet "Wild Ears" on the roof. A pillow pet, outside, on the roof. I wouldn't have thought to put him there. Ethan's response: "Can you let me climb up there and get it?" Uh, no, but at least he asked.
An hour or so later we are inside. The boys are playing at the train table and I smell something. Linley is asleep so it can't be her dirty diaper. Next, who's to blame but Caleb.
Me: Caleb, did you poop?
Caleb: very quietly, Uh huh.
Me: You pooped AGAIN? Where?
Caleb: In the kitchen.
Me to myself: 1. Disgusting.
2. How much poop can 1 child have?
3. Disgusting.
4. I've got to clean that up. Or should he have to clean that up? No, I'm too much of a germ-a-phobe to have him clean it up.
5. I think I might cry.
Poop cleaned up, Praise the Lord Mammy has come over so I can go to a yard sale and meet John for a movie, where I don't have to clean up any one or anything's poop, or think about cats.
You may ask why? Several reasons:
Our cats are somewhat brave/ somewhat stupid. We have Ollie now, and they just hang around letting the dog harrass them and they just swat at him and go on. My children play with the cats. Sometimes, the cats aren't smart enough to run away and hide. For instance, a couple of days ago the boys are outside playing in the yard while I'm watching them from the dining room doing some sewing. All of a sudden, something hits the window. It wasn't a rock. I run outside in a rage and then I see something else flying. It's not our turkeys. Next, comes discipline and a lesson on respecting all of God's creatures. Reasoning, the cat scratched me. My response: I would have scratched you too.
Cats poop outside on the ground, covered up. Today, I walk to the garage after seeing Caleb streak through. What do I find? No, it's not cat poop but kid poop. Are you serious? (I say that alot lately). After cleaning out the "Litter box" of Caleb I see him getting a spoonful of dirt and acting like he is covering up his poop. No, Caleb, you are not a cat, but a boy.
Sidenote: I come inside, I'm working on a project we have going on and the boys, being boys, are banished outside for a time due to their similarity to wild indians while Linley is asleep. So, all of a sudden both boys come marching in the house telling me I had to see something. Uh oh. I walk outside and there, on the roof of the garage, is Ethan's pillow pet "Wild Ears" on the roof. A pillow pet, outside, on the roof. I wouldn't have thought to put him there. Ethan's response: "Can you let me climb up there and get it?" Uh, no, but at least he asked.
An hour or so later we are inside. The boys are playing at the train table and I smell something. Linley is asleep so it can't be her dirty diaper. Next, who's to blame but Caleb.
Me: Caleb, did you poop?
Caleb: very quietly, Uh huh.
Me: You pooped AGAIN? Where?
Caleb: In the kitchen.
Me to myself: 1. Disgusting.
2. How much poop can 1 child have?
3. Disgusting.
4. I've got to clean that up. Or should he have to clean that up? No, I'm too much of a germ-a-phobe to have him clean it up.
5. I think I might cry.
Poop cleaned up, Praise the Lord Mammy has come over so I can go to a yard sale and meet John for a movie, where I don't have to clean up any one or anything's poop, or think about cats.
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