Holy Shit. (A Pooptastrophy)

For those of you who cannot handle poop stories, just get out of this now.

For those of you who aren't affected by the look of poop, the consistency of poop, the smell of poop, the amount of poop, the aftershocks of poop, OR, for those of you who are just a bit sick and twisted, proceed with caution...

And no, I don't have any pictures. My phone won't take them anymore so you'll just have to rely on my masterful storytelling skills. Plus, it all happened way too fast...

On a nice, balmy Wisconsin day (18 degrees) when I already felt like I was suffering from seasonal affective disorder (hold on. As I type this, the poop offender is yanking all of my hair out and it hurts.)

Okay, so I already have what seems to be SAD, and (hold on. Who the hell came up with that fancy schmancy acronym? Did they come up with the SAD part first then make it fit or did they say, "hey. I feel seasonally affected and it's sort of becoming a disorder?" Just saying.)

SAD. Or maybe the meds just aren't working they way that they used to, but either way I've had one of those weekends when nothing is really WRONG, but I still feel like everything is wrong. Stupid Wisconsin and its darkness. I don't know how people in Alaska deal with the darkness without going completely looney. I wonder what the ratio of normal to nuts is in dark snowy places like Alaska and Wisconsin vs. more equatorial destinations such as Florida and Texas. I'll betcha it's an obvious answer.

But I digress as always. Now for the story of the month:

I was already pooped (pun intended) and feeling blah. Our friends from PA were here, and Dan took them over to our neighbor's house while Avery and I waited for Morgan to wake up from her nap. Now mind you, Avery had her first success story on the potty today! She peed!!!!! Awesome, right?!?!?!? But then she became obsessed with going to the potty. On, off, on, off, on, off.....

Avery: Owie. There's poop in there!

Me: Is there really poop in there or do you have to go?

And inevitably, there was either pee or poo in there. But hey, at least she recognized the feeling and able to articulate it! Great milestone!

But after the first success this afternoon, it got weird. It was the "owie" part that confused me.

Me: Owie? Does your butt hurt? Is the diaper up your butt? Do you need butt goo?

Avery: Yeah.

So we did all of that. Repeatedly.

Then we went upstairs to wake Morgan up at 4:00 so we could go over to Hayden's ASAP.  But the following ensued... please note the record time in which I dealt with this:

4:00: Wake Morgan up and tell her we're going to Hayden's

4:01: Morgan freaks out because she wet her bed during her nap, which rarely happens anymore.

4:03: Morgan calms down enough to get her pee pee clothes off, and we get her in new ones. I tossed the clothes and the pee pee blankets over the railing for continued transportation to the basement at a later date.

4:06: We go downstairs. But this takes 4 minutes because Avery is stalling. Up and down, front and back, room and stairs, babies and blankies...finally got downstairs.

4:10: Get Avery's pants and shoes on. Get their coats on. Get Morgan's shoes on, sans socks. Who cares? We are driving over since it's so freaking cold!!!!! The time it takes to get from the car to the house is enough to freeze boogers. Imagine what a 6 house distance could do.

4:15: Avery again says, "owie. There's poop in there."

I figure it's yet another false alarm and she just hates the pull up.

4:15.30: I lay her down on the family room floor, take off her newly put on pants and shoes, wondering why she didn't tell me this before I put her clothes on, glancing at the pull up diaper wondering when the heck she'll decide to finally go on the potty again, yanking the pull up off her butt in a hurry trying to get out of the door so I barely notice that as I'm taking the diaper off and it's turning inside out on its way down that there is a ton of runny diarrhea chunky nasty stinky poo going with it (why I didn't smell it I have no idea) and it's all over the diaper her butt my family room floor my jeans my hands her legs her feet my shirt MY GOD!!!!!


Yes, let's all take a moment of silence......



I violated the cardinal sin of CHECKING THE DIAPER FIRST! Why?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!? AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I mourn for the days when hygiene was important, when I cared about the dogs more than anything, but at that moment, when I was covered in shit and looking at Avery going, ohjeezohjeezohjeezohjeezohjeezohjeezohjeezohjeezohjeez, Morgan, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE go go go get the paper towels (which didn't happen since she was watching Spongebob and looking at me like I was a complete stranger), so I looked at Avery's butt covered in disgusting ewie chunky slop all up her ass crack and down her legs and on her feet and on her legs and all of the same goo on my clothes, my hands, then lifted her up by the feet, upside down, holding her out in front me like she was contaminated, into the kitchen, where I looked at her poor little face upside down, placed her on the floor, and said, "DON'T MOVE!"

She didn't.

She must have been completely mortified and confused to have laid there so still, because we all know that she's an active baby, regardless of situation. I was able to get the paper towels and wipe most of the muddy gluey goo off of my thighs, my crotch, my waist, and the front of my shirt, fully intending to get to Avery next when I heard Morgan:

"Cooper, NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Really? Could it be happening?

Could my Cushing's Disease, always hungry, always panting, always thirsty dog be...?
No. It couldn't be.

Morgan: MOMMY!!!!!!!!!!!!! COOPER NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! DEAGAN, NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

Yes.

There the two dumb asses were, eating shit. Warm, chunky, muddy, stinky, gooey shit. Slopping it up like there was no food left in the world, caring not a lick (pun intended) of its consistency, temperature, and origin. They only cared that it was edible (sort of).

Me: That's okay, Morgan. It's less for Mommy to pick up...

Yup.

Don't care.

Dan will say that this is horrifically gross, (and remember...Dan won't read this because it's about poop, so he won't see this part...), just like the recent last time they ate something nasty...Deagan was gagging in the family room, so I sent him outside to puke. Sydney followed him. He puked outside. He started eating it. I yelled, EWWWW! He's eating it!

Dan: Well, go outside and make him stop!

Me: No way! It's 8 degrees out there! (Like I said, Wisconsin is a balmy, warm, temperate state)

Dan: You have shoes on, I don't!

Me: I'm not going out there! Who cares!!!! EWWWWWW!!!!!!! Sydney's eating it, too!!!!!!!

Dan: (at door) DEAGAN!!!!!!!!!!! SYDNEY!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOO! (to me) Chris, go out there and make them stop! That's disgusting!

Me: No way! Who cares!? Not worth the freezing cold!

Dan: But they kiss us with those mouths! They lick the kids!

Me: But they lick their own private parts on a daily basis! Which is worse!?

(Just saying...again...)

Back to current situation....

So I let them eat the shit. Yup, I did. Do I regret it? Nope. Why? Because they haven't thrown it up yet and they did a good job cleaning it. Very little extra cleaning on my part. They got all of the chunks. I used the oxy-clean spray for a final touch up.

4:30: Out the door to go to Hayden's.

:)

Update at 6:58 pm?

Wine.

Super woman, poopie fighter, dog corral-er, stain-fighter, dishes-doer, pee pee antagonist, laundry-hater, goo cleaner, food-getter, butt-fixer, kid-lover, patience-having, sanity lacking mommy.

That's me.

How Can I Stop Blogging?!?!?!

I was looking through all of my pics and I absolutely have to share some of them from this past summer! One particular day, the girls, Dan, the ferrets, the dogs, and I were outside on the swings and slide. Watch the fun ensue!

Here we have dear little Morgan and her friends - a purple stuffed snake and a tolerant Wally the Weasel. This poor little guy has taken quite a beating in Morgan's hands, from being bounced in the bouncy house to dragged around the house in a wheelbarrow. But this one probably freaked him out the most. He turned to the snake and said, "Hey...slithery dude, where is she taking us now?"

Wally: HOLY CRAP! I'm six feet up in the air, precariously grasped by a little 3 year old who absolutely CANNOT have a good idea about my future. Where is Fez? Where are Mom and Dad? Where is God?!?!?!

Wally: God is not watching. I'm toast.

Morgan: See, Wally? It's not that far down! It's fun up here!

Avery: Oh boy. That poor ferret is in for it now! Oh well. Better him than me!

Avery: What? Wally is playing dead like an opossum?

Avery: I can do that, too!!!!!

Avery: Okay, now watch me swing!

Avery: WHHEEEEEEE! That was fun! But wait. I hear the sounds of a little girl torturing small furry animals. Let's check back in with Morgan...

Wally: No, no, no, no, no, no, please, please, please, please, no, no, no, no......not me! Anyone but me!

Wally: Yeah, HIM! My brother! Take him instead! He WANTS to go down the slide! He told me just the other day! He's excited! He's the one you want! Push him!!!!!

Fez: TRAITOR! I can feel the stab wound already festering like a disease in my back already! Oozing with deception and trickery, Gooey with the puss of Cain's heart...you are DEAD to me!!!!!

Morgan: Ready....
Fez: I hate you, Wally.

Morgan: Set...
Fez: If I live through this you're gonna have to sleep with one weasel eye open...

Morgan: GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

Fez: OH SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thump.

Wally: Yeah, that's right! Keep tossing everything else! I'll be your BFF. Your pillow, your playmate, your confidant. I'll stop stealing all of your shoes. Throw the stupid snake! Toss your sister! Here she comes!!!!!!

Avery: What 'choo talkin' about, Wally?

Crisis avoided.

And the dogs in the middle of this soap opera? Creating their own drama!

Just another fun day at the zoo!
:)

Happy Birthday, Girls!

So the day finally arrived. The girls are two and four! Not only does this means that they are older, which happened WAY too fast, but it also means that I'm an old fart. And that my parents are even OLDER farts. How did we all get so full of hot air?!

Before I begin, let me provide you with the lyrics of a song that Morgan made up and sings all of the time:

The moon comes up,
The sun goes down,
And Nightmare Moon lives in the moon,
And Princess lives in the sun

Her hands alternate up and down and she repeats it quite often.

Here's Avery's song that she made up:

Ehhhhh ahhhhhh bibbity booo booo lalalalaaaaaaaaa.......Hey!!!!!! There's lights!
fooooowoooooallalaalaa booo boo moooooo mooooo.....Where's cows???

I interject with this because it's all that I heard on my way home from the airport after dropping off my parents!

But now for a few pics from the Bday party, in no particular order!


Cute little animals that wag their tails when you push their buttons. Daddy, being familiar with pushing people's buttons, got this for them!

Next is the winner of the night! Daddy picked out this AWESOME art easel for them! It is magnetic white board on one side and chalkboard on the other. It provides TONS of fun for hours!

And then, because great things come in three's, please note the awesome glow stick lights, wands, necklaces, and balloon strings hanging from up above (they filled the ceiling!).
Daddy's ideas!
And no, I am not under duress as I write this!

And now for some fun with Paul and Hayden! Hayden and his parents, Paul and Corrie, live just a few houses away from us, which is quite convenient when you don't want to worry about driving (and, because they have a kegerator!) Anyway, last summer, Morgan got a bunch of princess lip glosses from Target, and wouldn't 'cha know it? Hayden LOVED them. And ah, yes, those of you who know Dan know that this was an open invitation to humiliate Paul's already fragile ego. I'm sure you can imagine the snarky comments, thinly disguised, of course! But here we are a few months later observing similar behavior...from them both! (Not that there's anything wrong with that!)

So, I guess we've settled that one!

Here are some more pics from the party. Morgan loved one of Grammy's presents...but it was to Avery! Oh well, like Avery has a clue!

Barbie's head (freaky) and hair extensions. Now this is a funny one. There's something weird and twisted about giving your child a beautiful head on a platter. Either Godfather or Hannibal-esque.

But here you'll see my now 4 year old acting strangely. I'll give you three guesses...

1. Passed out after too much Tequila?


Nope.


2. Sneaking up on a bunch of balloons like the Crocodile Hunter?


Nope.


3. Examining the nooks and crannies in the floor like it was an English muffin?


Nope.


The real scenario: Morgan runs like a madwoman, pretends to fall to the ground, sprawls herself out on the floor in the exact same position every single time, tongue out, right leg kicking, saying, "ahhhhhhhh." We say, "Oh my gosh! What happened to Morgan! She looks like a chalk outline!" She hysterically jumps up, runs a few step, and repeats the process. I have no idea where she got this, but she really does hang her tongue out the side of her mouth and squinch her eyes shut. It's kind of creepy. Maybe that's what they call "dark humor." I just call it weird.

But then again, Morgan is faking it. Avery actually kills her babies.

Although at first glance that last picture looks adorable - cute little polka dot pj's, little mut in mouth, fuzzy hair that refuses to grow, baby in lap getting love and affection...please notice the second baby - the one with its head grotesquely twisted 180 degrees and facing the corner like The Blair Witch Project 2.0!

So let's shift gears and go to the aftermath of the party. The next day. Especially because Avery has on an awesome outfit and my mom got some great video (I have to get that from her and post it...)of her telling everyone what was on her clothes!

Putting socks on Pop-Pop

Identifying the penguin

and the other penguin on her pants

In same outfit playing with Pop-Pop

Freakish Barbie head

And the little puppy that she loves. Don't tell Avery!

But let's not kid ourselves...this day wasn't just about the kids! It was about friends, too! Especially the kind that come up behind you and freak you out, cause a sense of fight or flight that is oh so rare in normal relationships, but pretty much par for the course around this place! Notice both the fight (Jacci) and flight (Krysta) instincts in motion!

But at the end of the day, we sure did have a great time!

Final thoughts? I have absolutely no idea where this time went. Not just the last four years, but the last twenty. Yes, twenty. Let's break this down. I graduated from high school 20 years ago. I got married 11 years ago. We moved to WI four years ago. My oldest daughter is in preschool. My youngest forms complete sentences like, "I like this ice cream," and "Morgan, can I have a french fry, please?" Zoom. Gone. Passing quickly. All of the time. I just finished reading my AP seniors' essays about Slaughterhouse Five, and for those of you who don't know, time is a significant motif throughout. In fact, Billy, the main character, is "spastic in time," jumping unintentionally through moments in his life. Thanks to the Tralfamadorians, an alien race who abduct him just before his daughter's wedding, he learns from their infinite wisdom of the universe that there is no free will. That only on earth is there any talk of free will and that time is not a string of pearls, each moment following linearly from one moment to the next. Rather, time exists in the past, the present, and the future. That all things have always happened and always will. So even though it's one of their own little plunger-shaped-with-a-hand-on-top--and-single-green-eye-in-it selves that wind up pushing a button that blows up the entire universe, they recognize and inform Billy that this naughty Tralfamadorian has always pushed, and will always push that button. According to them, the moment is structured that way. They instead choose (ironically) to see their lives as a whole, focusing only on the beautiful and lovely moments. Yes, they have wars, but they just CHOOSE to focus on the good stuff...unlike humans who can only see through the equivalent of a PVC pipe duct taped to their eyes, and our heads permanently facing forward as we it on a railroad car zooming from beginning to end through our lives. We cannot see outside of that stupid pipe, no matter how hard we try. Thus, we only see a little tiny piece of the entire panoramic view of life at a time. The little plunger things see all time, all moments, all happiness, all beautiful. I envy that part of it. Peace.

This, my friends, is what I'm getting at. It's my girls' birthdays. Life flies by. I do not have the gift of being "spastic in time," able to visit all of the moments in my life, and I might not be able to see the future, but I do have the ability to CHOOSE (sorry little dudes) the moments in which I want to relish. I choose to hold onto the sweet ones. The ones filled with love.

"Linger longer in love and laughter" - me

Peace out, homies.