Melissa informs me that Elliott has to go to the bathroom. But it was obvious by the funny walk and the odd mound in her pants that she had already went. My first thought is, “it’s probably just something we can dump in the toilet.”
But, no. It’s summer, and in the summer Ellie lives on fruit. And the past couple days had been nothing but blueberries. So it wasn’t, shall we say, “scoopable.”
So I threw her underpants away, smeared poop all over her leg, the side of the toilet, and managed to get it on both of her shoes while cleaning her up. Put her poop covered shorts back on her and we head home. Elliott is very upset by this (we were going to play all morning, have a picnic, tons of fun stuff) and she didn’t understand why we had to leave.
Um, BECAUSE YOU POOPED YOUR PANTS.
We got home, and I cleaned Elliott up and put her on the couch to watch a cartoon before her nap. I also left Harper on the couch while I ran downstairs to put stain remover on the poop clothes and start the laundry.
Did you catch that? I left my three month old baby on the couch while I went to another level of my house. Pick up on that? Okay, good, let’s contine this train wreck.
When I came back upstairs to check on the girls, Harper’s body is hanging off the couch with her head, shoulders, and a little of her chest still clinging on for dear life. I’m really not sure how she didn’t fall. Thank you God and suspension of gravity for that one.
And there’s more, if you believe it. But if I keep going, someone might come and take my children from me. And I like them and want them to stay with me, so I’m going to end my day here. But know that it didn’t really end here. There is more, so much more. And none of it was good.
I’m just glad I have the super-mom days every once in a while so I don’t feel so bad about the poop-smeared, baby-almost-fell-of-the-couch ones.