I couldn't even blog about this last night as I was too upset about it. In fact, it wasn't until very late last night as I was trying to fall asleep that I had my first little laugh about it.
Yesterday was a busy day for us. We got up, got ready, took James to school, took the littles to Mom's house, had my mother-in-law's retirement lunch, got the supplies to do Jude's labs, picked James up from school, picked up Jude from Mom's, met some friends at Jump N' Jive, picked up Katy Jane, fixed dinner and then finally got the kids in the tub to wash off the germs from the day.
Things had gone well until that moment. Bath time.
I made a quick call to my sister while the boys were in the tub and when I got off James yelled for me. I went into the bathroom and that's when it happened. Jude was squatted down in the tub and James was standing holding up a poo stick the size of a king-size snicker bar in the air like a trophy and said, "Hey mom! My brother Jude just pooped in the tub!!!!" ('My brother Jude' in case I didn't know which Jude he was talking about). I screamed, "Throw it in the toilet!!!!" as I ran towards them. He threw it in just as I got there so I was splashed with potty water. Nice. I surveyed the catastrophe and realized that Jude had indeed managed to fill the tub with not only poo sticks but also a sizable amount of diarrhea as well.
Then he started SPLASHING in the poo water. All. Over. Me.
I made the boys stand on a towel while repeatedly yelling at them to not move. As they stood there shivering, cold and poo covered I removed all the toys (also poo covered) and rinsed them off. To my horror I realized the water had stopped draining because the drain was clogged up with poo balls. Which I had to dislodge WITH MY FINGERS!!!!!!!
I'm not sure at what point I started gagging...the smell, the splashing, the clogged drain, the poo under my fingernails, the diarrhea clinging to my children....but once I started scooping the poo into a pile with wet soggy toilet paper I lost it and grabbed onto the sides of the toilet and heaved so hard I think I popped some blood vessels in my eyeballs.
James said, "Mom? Why are you making a pile of poo poos?" By this point I was gagging so hard and so often that tears were running down my face and I couldn't answer him. Then he astutely added, "Jude should not poo poo in the bath tub anymore." Right.
After all the poo was removed and the tub was bleached clean, I tentatively drew another bath for the boys and scrubbed every inch of them. By the time it was all said and done I took a look at myself in the mirror and looked just as I suspected I would...frazzled, mascara running down my face, hair frizzed out of my pony tail, and red-eyed.
As I observed this person I barely recognized, I flashed back to 5 years ago...before children. Before stretch marks. Before 30 extra pounds. When I sat quietly in my lovely corner office, eating at wonderful restaurants instead of eating the abandoned chicken nuggets off my kids plates, staying in fabulous hotels instead of hotels that are closest to my child's cancer hospital, wearing clothes that were not sweat pants and sneakers, wore shoes that were chosen because of their beauty not because of their sensibility or ability to help me keep up with 3 children, and did not have stray Elmo figurines, Spiderman toys and binkies filling the bottom of my purse.
But the truth is that I would not trade it for the world. I might trade the poo bath...but not the life. THIS is my dream-come-true. To be at home, raising these sweet babies, spending my days chasing them around and laughing at the situations they get into. This is my dream job. It's not glamorous and is most often thankless. It's gritty, brutal, and uncivilized but I truly love it. I'm grateful that this is what I get to do...that I have a husband who values the role of a stay-at-home mom and the benefits of me being a homemaker.
So late last night when I was trying to get to sleep...I laughed at the thought of James holding that poo stick up in the air like a prize. Then I realized my sides were still sore from all the gagging and lurching.
Yesterday was a busy day for us. We got up, got ready, took James to school, took the littles to Mom's house, had my mother-in-law's retirement lunch, got the supplies to do Jude's labs, picked James up from school, picked up Jude from Mom's, met some friends at Jump N' Jive, picked up Katy Jane, fixed dinner and then finally got the kids in the tub to wash off the germs from the day.
Things had gone well until that moment. Bath time.
I made a quick call to my sister while the boys were in the tub and when I got off James yelled for me. I went into the bathroom and that's when it happened. Jude was squatted down in the tub and James was standing holding up a poo stick the size of a king-size snicker bar in the air like a trophy and said, "Hey mom! My brother Jude just pooped in the tub!!!!" ('My brother Jude' in case I didn't know which Jude he was talking about). I screamed, "Throw it in the toilet!!!!" as I ran towards them. He threw it in just as I got there so I was splashed with potty water. Nice. I surveyed the catastrophe and realized that Jude had indeed managed to fill the tub with not only poo sticks but also a sizable amount of diarrhea as well.
Then he started SPLASHING in the poo water. All. Over. Me.
I made the boys stand on a towel while repeatedly yelling at them to not move. As they stood there shivering, cold and poo covered I removed all the toys (also poo covered) and rinsed them off. To my horror I realized the water had stopped draining because the drain was clogged up with poo balls. Which I had to dislodge WITH MY FINGERS!!!!!!!
I'm not sure at what point I started gagging...the smell, the splashing, the clogged drain, the poo under my fingernails, the diarrhea clinging to my children....but once I started scooping the poo into a pile with wet soggy toilet paper I lost it and grabbed onto the sides of the toilet and heaved so hard I think I popped some blood vessels in my eyeballs.
James said, "Mom? Why are you making a pile of poo poos?" By this point I was gagging so hard and so often that tears were running down my face and I couldn't answer him. Then he astutely added, "Jude should not poo poo in the bath tub anymore." Right.
After all the poo was removed and the tub was bleached clean, I tentatively drew another bath for the boys and scrubbed every inch of them. By the time it was all said and done I took a look at myself in the mirror and looked just as I suspected I would...frazzled, mascara running down my face, hair frizzed out of my pony tail, and red-eyed.
As I observed this person I barely recognized, I flashed back to 5 years ago...before children. Before stretch marks. Before 30 extra pounds. When I sat quietly in my lovely corner office, eating at wonderful restaurants instead of eating the abandoned chicken nuggets off my kids plates, staying in fabulous hotels instead of hotels that are closest to my child's cancer hospital, wearing clothes that were not sweat pants and sneakers, wore shoes that were chosen because of their beauty not because of their sensibility or ability to help me keep up with 3 children, and did not have stray Elmo figurines, Spiderman toys and binkies filling the bottom of my purse.
But the truth is that I would not trade it for the world. I might trade the poo bath...but not the life. THIS is my dream-come-true. To be at home, raising these sweet babies, spending my days chasing them around and laughing at the situations they get into. This is my dream job. It's not glamorous and is most often thankless. It's gritty, brutal, and uncivilized but I truly love it. I'm grateful that this is what I get to do...that I have a husband who values the role of a stay-at-home mom and the benefits of me being a homemaker.
So late last night when I was trying to get to sleep...I laughed at the thought of James holding that poo stick up in the air like a prize. Then I realized my sides were still sore from all the gagging and lurching.
Psalm 127:3-Children are a blessing and a gift from the Lord.
 |
| Jude the Squatting Poo Bandit |
 |
| Speak softly and carry a big |
 |
| Too sweet to ever do anything so gross |
Comments