True Story

Yesterday morning was exceptional and not in they "OH MY GOODNESS THIS WAS THE BEST!!". Fortunately for me, mornings like what will follow don't happen all that often, but if they do it is almost always on a Monday. Everyone is readjusting from the weekend of bliss with 2 adults to satisfy any ridiculous or necessary need.

The attitudes from the Big Three were not good. Fortunately, Ainsley was handling the crumbgobblers' waves of hysteria which did keep me from completely losing it. From the wee ones, it was the "I'm mad so I'll bang my head on the floor (me: here, do that on the carpet)" or "I'm going to bite my brother" or "Let's all gang up on Mommy and cling to both her legs and cry and then push each other down". Fabulous.

Then it happened. Dirty diapers are pretty common around here and I'm actually thankful they happen during awake time. If they produce, then they probably won't rise early from a nap because even they can't tolerate the smell. Anywho, it was Gracie's turn so we went through the normal diaper-changing routine. The next event was not routine. Faster than you can say "Adding to the landfill!", she grabbed the nasty thing and FLUNG IT to the side. It was open. Now, the changing table is set at an angle to a corner of the family room in order to protect a floor lamp. The majority of the contents lay on the floor behind the table, on top of a wayward sock (so THAT'S where that was!), a red Lego, and part of the base of the lamp. The rest was scattered like shrapnel in the vicinity. I sighed. My shoulders slumped. I finished putting on a clean diaper, set Gracie down, set off to get cleaning materials, trying to be thankful she didn't perform her trick on my side.

Some of the thoughts running through my head as I was cleaning it up were:
1. I can't believe I am cleaning up human feces in my home.
2. Sometimes I feel like a zookeeper. Think about it - sometimes they put baby monkeys in diapers.
3. That thought led to the next one: there used to be a gorilla at our zoo who would throw...umm...stuff at you. Even young-uns like myself would know to stand back a bit.
4. This is truly disgusting.
5. What time is it? (read: are they ready for their nap?)

But my story does not end here. That would be tolerable. You see, as I was standing up some of my hair fell forward and landed in excrement. No lie. It lay neatly across the pile and I actually did not know what to do. Both of my hands were occupied. A child was trying to climb up my back. I almost got a little teary. From the smell.

It was 8:05 and we still had 45 minutes to go before the wonderfulness that is nap time.

The rest is actually uninteresting. The crumbgobblers actually chilled out a bit and a small part of me believes it's because they knew the Mommy was one kidlet freak-out away from popping a brewski and taking a seat on the front porch swing without them.