If I See One More Piece of Poop . . .

Sorry, no photos . . . you'd oppose one having to do with this post anyway . . . so I don't even know where to start . . . maybe I'll start with yesterday's mystery. So my friend Vickie is over with her two kids playing with my kids yesterday afternoon. Jack had an "accident" - but let's be honest here . . . I prefer to think of him actually pooping IN the potty as the "accident" since he's only done it by chance two or three times as opposed to soiling his underpants daily with his poop! OK - back to the issue. So Jack soils his pants and Lex comes in to tell us - but not only about the accident - she also has poop all over her. She's got it on her belly, on her shirt and a bit on the front of her pants. She has no clue how it got there. It's not hers and it's as if she was on the ground in the forest and rubbed up against our mystery scat (see an earlier post about bear scat!) . . . we examine her and Jack to see how in the world she could have gotten it on  her and there's no possible way it could have come from Jack, there's NO evidence! No transfer point. So we conclude it's one of those unsolved mysteries.

After hosting book club last night, I'm showing the house to  one of my friends and as we tour the playroom . . . right there by the sliding door out to the little second floor deck, there are these poop marks everywhere as if someone had it on their shoe and walked all over. I then see it smeared all over the deck and wonder if our earlier puzzle is solved, but still wondering, "What the heck??? How does that happen??? What . . . how . . . eeeeeeeeeewwwwwww!" 

So I progress to this morning when Jack has yet another "accident" but since I was working out I hadn't changed him from his pull-up into underpants when he woke up, so I'm not that upset . . . still - have you tried to clean a kid from a poopie pull-up - WAY worse than a diaper.

Soon after, I'm up scrubbing carpet and deck boards trying to get the poop off . . . (note to self: I need to get some carpet cleaner, it wouldn't come out of the carpet) The kids knew it was there - they tell me, "yeah - it got there Monday night when all the kids were here playing." MONDAY NIGHT? Hello - did you not think to tell me since we DO have a little one year old who's all about crawling over every inch . . . especially the most forbidden inches!!! So I'm sure one of the poor moms that was here Monday night has had to scrub poop off someone's shoe - or socks - that would be par for this course!!!

Soon after that, I'm gathering all the laundry and hangers and see a grocery bag tied up in the boys' room. I ask Harrison - "What's this?" he responds, "It's my shoes - I accidentally stepped in poop last night at Barbachanos." "REEEEEEAAAAAALLY? And when were you OR your dad going to inform me that there was a grocery bag stashed in your room with festering feces?" I guess it's all balanced out now - Lex takes home poop on her belly and Harrison brings home poop on his shoes - we're even.

Breath - it's not over yet!

I proceed to do laundry strategically, knowing that at any moment, with the turn of just one article of clothing, I could make contact with any number of impossible-to-rinse-thoroughly poopie underpants. Problem is - as I'm transferring one load from washer to drier - I realize there must have been a pair of underpants rinsed by daddy (honey, I adore you for doing that - I KNOW how it does you in!!!) But - there were little . . . um . . . pieces . . . um . . . of tomato skin . . . eh . . . that must have come from one of these accidents and left there in the washer as proof that the little kiddo is not getting it. So - as I'm transferring clothes, I'm taking all precautions to remove said pieces . . . and cleaning the clothes again, then cleaning the washing machine again . . . and to my dismay, as I open the drier when this particular load is done . . . well, there around and in the lint screen are many more tomato skins. I know - soooooooooo disgusting . . . but I am living this mess - get over it! So as I'm folding clothes, again I have to inspect to make sure there are no remnants. I have come across one or two. I figure - at this point, they are clean tomato skins and not about to wash the clothes for a third time.

NEXT . . . oh yes, it's not over! Jack has ANOTHER accident. One in a day is expected, two is just cruel!!!

The minute I'm done taking care of that one (and I'll spare you the details unless you ask for my protocol for clean up - I've come up with some very useful tips) - Emery says to me, "Mom, I don't know if you want to hear it, but Aidan's poopie." Yep - she guessed right, I didn't want to hear it. So I go investigate and not only is he blowing out up the back of his diaper and pants, but it has oozed out all over the little camp chair he was sitting on. I should be a commercial for disinfectant wipes!!!

So now . . . the bag with the poopie shoes are still sitting waiting for me to clean them off . . . . and I've debated throughout this entire day whether or not I should just throw them out . . . is it worth it? I do know that I don't have the strength at this moment to take care of them. Oh please . . . I'm so far past done! I may retire if I see or smell one more infinitesimal amount of poo. It's just that . . . I don't know who I'd give my resignation notice to!