Who’s poop IS THAT!?!?

Dear Lord, this mama is on FIIII-YAAAAAA!!!! And not in a sexy, smoldering way! Like in the “my kids, and window sill, and rocking chair, and this MAMA are all covered in poop” kinda way!!!

We were having an exceptional day! I was even in the midst of awarding myself for being that awesome, amazing, get-on-the-floor-to-play-with-my-kids kind of mom! Ones you hear about and strive to be! It was naptime. Historically, a big challenge, but still VERY needed! As we learned the day before…no nap for babies is a poor life choice for daddy and I!

As they clearly weren’t calming down too much, I left the room to retrieve some tissues for their drippy, snotty noses. And to get myself prepared for the long, and rocky descend into Sleepy-Town. I walk out. Instantly I forget why I’m out there. I blame my severe and also self-diagnosed case of ADHD. Or better yet, my amazing multi-tasking-super-woman mom brain!  Figure I’ll switch the load of laundry around, get the lunch plates into the dishwasher, get a light jog in because hey! It’s nice out. KIDDING!!! I don’t jog, fools!! I’m basically completely winning at this “Mom” gig. I’m the one to envy for really having my shit together! I’m gently patting myself on the back for being so amazing, but all the while I have a gut feeling. Ya know, the one that always reminds you to wear clean undies, a bra, and don’t wear your slippers when running a quick errand! Because you just know the time you DON’T, that’ll be the time you end up in the ER, pushing your car out of a snow bank, or helping a stranger chase after their loose dog!! Dogs get me everytime! That voice! All of us women have it, and we have it for a reason!! It’s not voices, I swear! I think…anyway…LISTEN TO IT!! I knew I’d stayed away from the girls just a BIT too long…and probably forgot the tissues I left to retrieve in the first place!

I approach the door, knowing nothing good was waiting for me on the other side! I open the door to laughing, naked, diaperless toddlers, and a stench! A smell that slapped me in the face so hard, made me think I left me 200lb Mastiff in with the girls to defficate all over! The dog couldn’t be blamed for this one! My eyes move from the rocking chair, to the window sill, to the toddler holding a medicine syringe with a log of poo at the end of it like a lollipop!! I started screaming “WHO’S POOP IS THAT!?!?? WHO’S POOP IS THAT!?!???” I became an inconsolable, barking dog! I’m sure also at pitches only dogs could hear! The rage was instant. Fire brewing in my eyes, steam rolling out of my ears, and a blood pressure off the charts! I move closer to the window. Urine accompanied the fecal matter! Now, to a new level of rage!! Oh wow, haven’t felt that before! Well you just surprise yourself everyday, now don’t ya Blayr? I look to one child, and to the other. Their wide eyes were a little of pride, some fear, but mostly laughing at their moms fit of rage! Finally the culprit revealed herself, and my suspicions were correct. It was Haydey Lady, as she proudly confirmed “Haydey. Poop!”

Why for the love of all is holy, do these kids not understand the level of filth and disgusting-ness playing with your own poo is!?!? Like on a scale of 1-10, it’s a 5,000!!! Oh wait, that’s my job to educate them on that. Perhaps not when Mamas head is spinning, spit is spewing out of her head, and she’s levitating should we have this educational moment. Another time, mama. Another time.

I angrily leave the room, slamming the door behind me. Gather cleaning supplies, and get back in there and begin. I start scrubbing the window sill, wondering what in the hell I fed this child that turned her poo into TAR! I start disinfecting, scrubbing, contemplating life. Like I do sooooooo many times in their short little lives. Like why God thought it was ok, and I was of sound mind, to bring these kids up into this world! Now the girls continue to play with the poo on the seat and the arm of the leather lazy-boy-recliner. I scream more obscenities, and in one fellow swoop like the Hulk, slide the recliner right out of their room! Slam the door, yet again. Teaching my children amazing new skills that I will ultimately discipline them for down the road, and wonder where they “ever learned such behavior??”. I leave with all the cleaning supplies. Thinking to myself of how many times you’ve heard other hilarious stories people have told you about their kids and poo. I remember laughing at all those stories. HARD! So why am I not laughing now? Because this shit is DISGUSTING!!! Cleaning it up? Smelling it?? Teaching about it?? Pure filth! It’s too much! So I take out the trash. Now awarding myself as the WORST mom there ever was! Anger now being replaced by feelings of overwhelmed, sadness, defeat. Why did I, the adult here, get so out of hand? I take the bag of trash filled with poop, dirty diapers, paper towels, and all my hopes and dreams of being that PERFECT mom I always dreamed I’d be…and threw it to the curb. Took a deep breath, and walked back in.
I bathe the poopy toddler, slide the cleaned off recliner back into the room, and gather the culprits’ blankie and binkie, and begin to rock her. Hopey had put herself into bed. Must’ve got wiped out watching the show I begin to forgive everyone in the room…but mainly, myself. I let go of how I THOUGHT the day should be going, and gave in to what it was. Reminded myself that “this too shall pass”, and the poop-less toddler fell alseep in my arms.
I left the room. Wanting to cry. Hanging my head. So they started their naps a little later in the day? So we won’t make it to their chiropractor appointment on time later on? So I didn’t get to that day old salad? I needed to sit. I needed to shed a tear. I needed to tell myself it’s ok! And as I type and hear that little munchkin screaming and cryin because she lost her binkie, I will go back in. Because the beauty isn’t in the falling, it’s in the rising. I will dust myself off, give myself a break, and pat myself on the back, because no one was made more for those two kiddos than I. No one will love them as fiercely as I will. And absolutely nobody can clean up their “Tar-Like-SHIT” better than I can! I do, however, invite you to come over and try.