July 16, 2012- Do you ever have one of those days? You know, the one where you had something you thought would be easy planned and then everything possible that could get in your way comes along? That's how my day started. But heed my warning- this account of my morning involves the bodily functions of a 2-year old. Proceed with caution or stop now.
This morning's agenda was to bake a batch of brownies and get a pot roast started so I could deliver dinner to a friend from MOPS that just had a baby. I needed to drop it off on our way to swimming lessons in Fredericksburg in the evening, so getting it going was crucial for it to be ready when I needed to walk out the door later in the afternoon.
Let me make a blanket disclaimer~
I realize that being a stay-at-home mom is a blessing and an opportunity that not everyone is able to have. I appreciate how hard my husband works to make this happen. And I know this is a priceless investment we are making for our family. But that doesn't mean we sit around finger painting, perusing Pinterest for new projects or cuddling and giggling all day long. You are about to read the shocking reality of it all in this tiny slice of my life. I share this lovely account with you not because I need you to feel sorry for me, but because one day my boys will read this and I hope it weighs heavily on their decision of which nursing home to place me. If I don't end up in the loony bin first, of course.
First off, Brazos is potty training. Well, sort of. We are trying to get him to tell us when he needs to go as often as possible but we are in no way attempting a rapid approach with it. Slow and steady wins the race, right? He's getting better at telling us when he needs to pee, with the help of M&Ms as bribery. I'm not ashamed to admit that. So far we are making some progress. It is the pooping part that we need to work on more. And since this child's digestive system is on a one poop a day schedule for the most part, there is only a small window of opportunity to catch him and get him to the potty. That time is in the morning.
So here we go...Casey was working on our massive rock retaining wall, getting the last giant rock in place. That involved the tractor which was a major distraction for Brazos. I took him on the porch to watch the tractor show. He had already peed a few times and got his M&Ms. I told him he needed to poop on the potty and after a few of my requests he started ignoring me- typical of him. So I thought this would be a good time to get out of my pajamas and dressed for the day. He had a sippy cup, sidewalk chalk and a John Deere tractor. Surely that could buy me 45 seconds to change clothes and brush my teeth. I couldn't have been more wrong.
I left the door to the porch open so I could hear his request to go to the potty. And sure enough as soon as my pajamas were off he declared he needed to poop. If you've ever been in the beginning stages of potty training a 2 year old you understand the need to act swiftly. So I came running to discover he had begun the process in his pull up diaper and raced him to the potty. I took off the diaper, put him on the toilet and waited. We read tractor books and I told him he needed to poop in the potty. Pecos came in to supervise the situation. In my rush to get off the pull-up I didn't see some of the poop fall out onto the dark red bath rug. And the smell didn't give it away because I'd just thrown away a semi-poopy pull-up into the bathroom trashcan so the whole bathroom sort of smelled like poop. Are you with me?
Pecos managed to step in the poop but didn't realize it at first. I'm a bit in awe at this phenomenon to step in something squishy and not notice. He left the bathroom to work on his latest Lego creation. When he came back he asked if Brazos had pooped on the floor. I said no but he had pooped in his pull-up. And all of a sudden I had a gut feeling something was wrong. Really wrong. That's when I noticed the escapee poop on the rug and it was slightly mashed with the partial imprint of a 5-year-old's foot. Fabulous. Have you ever tried to track down poop prints on a brown stained concrete floor? Not easy, I can assure you. I put Pecos in the bathtub to scrub his feet while I went to get bleach or something stronger to sterilize the tub and his toes. Then I began the clean up equivalent of an Exxon Valdez spill. Brazos made an escape attempt from the toilet. I got him back on the throne and I cleaned up all I could find then let out a huff over the fact that mopping was now on my to-do list for the day. At some point during all of this Pecos asked why I was wearing my swim suit which was actually my bra and panties since Poop-a-palooza had begun just 10 seconds into my wardrobe change.
I turned on the faucet in the bathroom sink only to be soaked from the waist down due to a build up of mineral deposits in the screen that is redirecting the flow straight across the sink to whomever is standing in front of it. I've put in a request to have this looked at but a week later and the faucet is still drenching us every time we turn it on. You'd think by now I'd remember this little detail but I'm just a bit distracted.
At that exact moment the timer for the oven went off to signal the brownies would begin to burn if not removed from the oven. I put Brazos out on the porch naked as the day he was born so I could get the pot roast started- and finally put on my clothes. I'm so glad our friendly UPS driver did not have a delivery this morning. Pecos was back amidst the 5,000 Lego pieces scattered on the floor of his bedroom. Speaking of Legos, if you've ever stepped on one barefoot you know it can leave an impression of perfectly spaced dots that will fade and disperse into a long lasting bruise. There are 3 levels of pain in life- regular pain, excruciating pain, and stepped on a Lego pain. So for the time being I am wearing shoes in the house which upsets the husband because it makes the floors dirty. Not as dirty as poop prints but dirty nonetheless. Sorry, honey, but for now a dirty floor trumps the level of pain experienced by stepping on a tiny piece of plastic.
I managed to get dressed and while I started the pot roast I was keeping an eye and ear on Brazos out on the porch. Just when things were starting to settle down Casey was taking a break from the rock project and as he approached Brazos on the patio I looked up and noticed that he had pooped again! Of course Casey had no idea what had just taken place so he thought it wasn't that big of a deal. Brazos was laughing. I now had another mess to clean and a pot roast on the stove that was on the verge of burning. I finally got it cleaned up and Casey offered to take Brazos for a tractor ride if I would just get him a diaper, a shirt and his shoes. Done! Off they went while I retreated back to the house to diffuse the smoke alarm, rescue the pot roast and repeat my mantra "only 10 more hours till bedtime, only 10 more hours till bedtime!"
Did I mention this all happened before 9:30 am?
How many days until school starts?
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