There are some things in this world that, as a mom, is unavoidable. No matter how much you want to you just can’t get around-

  • whining
  • waiting at the doctors
  • paperwork
  • puke
  • poop

That last one has been very popular around here lately.

It all started last month when Amanda had The Bug. You know the one I’m talking about. Puking, sharting, exhaustion, seemingly endless diarrhea, refusal to eat, all followed up with a nice case of acid reflux.  We call it Icky Belly.

I threw out 4 pairs of underwear last month.  It was that bad.

Now yesterday, I put Perry in her crib for a nap. She protested until she fell asleep. Or so I thought.

I kept smelling poop and since Kieran has recently potty trained himself, I thought he had an accident. That poor boy endured my interrogation for a full 5 minutes.

He’ll make a very patient man someday.

Then I heard Perry.

As I approached the bedroom, the smell became stronger.  When I opened the door I was greeted by a butt neked, grinning she-devil. And poop.

Pooplets to be exact.  Perry had smashed what must have been a dry, little poopie and rubbed it all over her mattress and pushed what was left behind her crib.

Lovely.

Later on, we had a visit from Naana. As usual Kieran hid out with his toys. I thought he was improving because he was actually being quiet about it rather than screaming.

He’ll also grow up to be Anthropophobic .

I have to say that I am not the one who made the discovery. To did when he checked on Kieran.  I found out because Tom is not calm when it comes to body function related emergencys.

To save my own sanity, I stepped in.

I was on the poop hunt again. I had to pick up and inspect every toy in the room. That, of course, was  every toy we owned.  I ended up following a pooplet trail from one side of the room to the other.

At least it was easy to clean up.

Tonight was another story.

Amanda, bless her skinny little heart, refuses to get out of bed by herself.  There is not a good enough reason in this world for her to get up with out permission. She tried once and saw a monster in Mommy and Daddy’s room and never tried again. I also never left my bedroom door open during grown up time again.

Tonight that bit us both in the tush.

Amanda called for me and I couldn’t here her. I’ll blame selective hearing. By the time I responded, it happened. Shit, that is.

This was no pooplet.  It was shit all over the inside of her jammies and down her leg.  It didn’t help that Amanda was having a dancing, whining tizzy while I”m trying to clean her up.

Ugh. I hope this is the last poop event for a while.

And just for the record, we are now down 5 pairs of panties and a pair of pink footie pajamas.

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