Poop Happens

I’m still waiting for an invitation from Martha, but it hasn’t arrived.  Maybe we could be on house arrest together…

S Happens, That’s my theme. I know how not a day passes that you mutter to yourself, where is The Suburban Martyr! Well, like Martha is about to experience I’m on house arrest. I’m waiting for an invite from her, but the phone doesn’t ring. As I’ve said before, she’s going to be done and much richer than me after her stint is over. Mine’s not nearly as luxurious, Martha has a staff and cook, and although I’m the cook, and I’ve got the housekeeper and regular sitter, the light at the end of my tunnel is a freight train. I could stay with Martha, and we could do crafts Speaking of crafts, I’ve learned to knit, and it’s another craft I’ve gotten involved with that after hours spent…STILL LOOKS LIKE CRAP. Let’s pull my mind out of the fogged haze of “where the hell am I” and try to remember what has been going on….Pictures help jog my memory, as it’s hard to remember the day of the week.

Jack is playing soccer and will retire in March at 4 ½ . Such a sensitive soul, he can’t understand why after all these years of me insisting that he “share” that I would want him to be interested in a game where someone kicks him and makes him cry in order to steal his ball that he got for Christmas. He spends a lot of the weekly games crying, and snuggling with his coach and when he’s not doing that he’s usually on the playing field showing his opponent how to do “starfish” on the grass. Then, “whack”, some punk athlete of a kid (whose father has undoubtedly practiced with his son) kicks the ball in his direction, it hits him in the head, and the tears start. What have I gotten myself into? I haven’t mastered breastfeeding and playing soccer. Only 3 more games and NO MORE, Never again, not until he can drive himself. Only 3 more months and NO MORE, this well is DRY!!!! Life will be GOOD! We’ll try T ball next, or Swimming. Ashton, turns 3 in March, was potty trained “1 & 2” in less than 10 days…I’ll probably be shunned from the mommy’s group, but I’m not scared to shout…time outs don’t work. They especially don’t work in the area of poop and public places where company might sit. Severe threats and follow through, well, let’s just say if you need help call me. He’s my angel boy now!

It’s amazing what kids will do for a freaking marble. “Do this, get a marble, Do that, wait for the wrath on the step, please while I clean this up and compose myself”. It all started the day after his nap where he crapped in his diaper, took the diaper OFF, wiped his hand in the poop and then proceeded to paint on my walls, chase Jack with the poopy hand, SIT ON MY COUCH. It was everywhere, walls, furniture, dog, baby, baby dog, TV, bike, staircase, bed. Let’s just say it was a SHITTY day. MY technique changed, and viola, the kid now poops and pees in the potty and gets a marble. Mignonne is now allowed to sit up. She has been forcibly delayed in development due to my inability to deal with all three of them at the same time. Now that Ashton can poop and pee without supervision, her world is a lot better. So, she now cruises throughout the house chasing the boys in her scooter walker as they zoom down the hall on their bikes….Then, when she’s done she happily sits on the floor and eats toys. 24 lbs at 9 months old, she’s no petite thing and what are left of my breasts prove it. She’s bigger than some of Jack’s classmates! She’s got such a nice sweet personality and is pretty much laid back and our “easiest one” to date. She crawled/scooted on her elbows (if you want to call it crawl, fine) on Super Bowl Sunday and is discovering that our house has other places to visit besides my right hip.

Lille is neglected (as usual). We’ve spent the month reacquainting with neighbors bringing her home as the yard guy cut the wire for the invisible fence for the 100th time, she escaped and came home with a body of fleas and ticks. I kept asking neighbors if they wanted her, but she’s sleeping on my sofa in the Living Room as I type.

Speaking of S, Yesterday during pick-up from pre-school, I thought it would be a treat to take the dog. Until she SH*T in the car. I thought it was bad with the kids screaming or Ashton’s poop, until I had to deal with the screaming, and the smell of SMOOSHED dog feces. I thought, “Just Kill Me Now…”

Hope you put a shout out to the man upstairs to get me through this.

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