So, you may have noticed, as I have, that all my posts have something to do with poop. Ben suggested that I change the title of my blog to the 'poop scoop'. While I considered that, I decided I would redeem myself with a poop-free story. I think it is just that I know that poop is always good for a cheap laugh.
When Ben had first started at the fire department, I was determined to be able to do things that we had once done together by myself. Just because I now had three kids I was not going to hide in my home and never do things just because he was away. So in a brave effort I decided to take the kids to church by myself. At this point Sammy was only a couple months old. I was scared but I knew I had to put on a brave front and not let the enemy (Riley and George) know I was feeling weak.
Things were going along well. I was beginning to feel very proud of myself. We stood up to sing a song and I heard George say, "I'm stuck". I looked down to notice that he had jammed his elbow in the little book shelf that comes out about three inches from the back of each pew. I bent down to pull his elbow out. Suddenly his cries became louder, "I'm stuck, I'M STUCK"
I handed Sammy to the people in the pew behind me. I was later relieved to find out that I knew them. The song is over and people are sitting and the only thing that can still be heard is George now screaming, "I'M STUCK!"
I know in this situation I am supposed to be the calm and cool mother who soothes her child, but for some reason I just can not stop laughing. It may have been a nervous reaction because I found I was also sweating profusely.
People from two pews up and two pews back start helping me get my sons elbow dislodged from the bookshelf. One man began to look in his diaper bag for a screwdriver to undo the shelf. (I was impressed to think he might have a screwdriver in his diaper bag) the people behind me gave me their chap stick to rub on his elbow. The man in front was pulling on the shelf to make in wider and get the elbow out.
I look up and see that our elderly priest has decided to ignore the incident and continue with the service even though it appears that not one person in the congregation is actually paying attention to him. All eyes are on George.
Scenarios start to run through my head. If we have to call an ambulance and Ben has to come to get the elbow out I am going to be so embarrassed. Am I going to have to go up and interrupt the priest and explain to him what is going on? Should I yell, "does anyone have a screwdriver?" in the middle of church.
Riley begins to laugh, I turn and tell her this is not funny. While I try to hide the fact that I myself can not stop laughing. Finally, someone two pews up hands me a tube of lotion that I squirt all over his elbow which slowly becomes dislodged.
And that is what happened when I attempted to take the kids to church by myself. I don't know, poop may be funnier.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Ahhh, Fall
It was a perfect fall day. Riley, George, Sammy and I were all bundled up in our sweatshirts raking the crispy dry leaves into a pile for jumping.
After we finished raking, I sat on the deck watching as the three of them ran to the top of our little hill and jumped blissfully into the leaves. They were laughing and throwing the leaves into the air, it was like a picture in a magazine.
As I watched them I thought, 'this is a perfect moment.' This type of thought always means something is about to go horribly wrong.
"POOOOOOP" Riley and George scatter into the yard running from the pile.
Sammy continues to sit in the leaves with a confused look on her face looking back and forth at all of us, "What? What?"
Riley is in the corner practicing her dramatics, "I am covered in poop!"
Well, it turns out we had built our perfect leaf pile on top of a perfect pile of dog poop. So much for our blissful fall afternoon.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
An oldie but a goodie
This story actually happened this summer, but it is burned into my memory and I think you will enjoy it.
We had decided one summer evening to go have dinner at the Cheesecake Factory and then afterwards we went to the bookstore. I LOVE bookstores. I could spend hours there.
So there we were, the scene was idyllic. I was sitting in a chair reading to Riley and George the cutest book that I was totally into (Stripes, I highly recommend it) and Ben was sitting next to us enthralled in his book. It is usually exactly when I am thinking what a great moment this is that something like this happens.
"EM!" Ben cries. I look up to see Sammy's cute little diaper cover and her diaper inside sitting in front of us, only no Sammy. I hop up and begin searching the aisles. I found her standing in front of the board books, flipping through one of the titles. A sigh of relief comes over me, we found her. Then my relief quickly turns to terror as I notice the pile of poop behind her.
"BEN!" We both stand there staring at the scene, unable to take the next step. All the while Sammy is flipping through her book oblivious to our horror. Ben announces he is going to quickly purchase his book and I am to get the kids to the car.
I am wondering if purchasing a $20 book will negate the fact that my daughter pooped in your store. As I am thinking this I frantically look through my purse for something to clean it up. Of course, I am all out of wipes and all that I have is a cloth diaper. I am bending over trying to wipe it up when Riley walks up behind me, "Did Sammy poop on the floor?"
"No!" I say with the poopy evidence in my hand. "We need to leave now." I scoop up Sammy and quickly usher Riley and George out of the book store.
We are literally running for the exit with a bare bottomed baby when Riley yells to one of the employees, "Excuse me. My sister..."
"Riley, RILEY be quiet"
We get to the car and I strap Sammy into her seat, bottomless. Ben gets into the car with his purchase and we both burst out laughing. I just can't help thinking of the poor person who is closing up that night telling their fellow employees, "you are not going to believe this but someone pooped in the children's section."
It is one of those things you think by your third child you think you have seen it all, and then something like this happens and you realize you haven't.
The moral of the story: Anytime something you have falls on the floor of a public place, just leave it. You never know, someone may have pooped there. You just never know.
We had decided one summer evening to go have dinner at the Cheesecake Factory and then afterwards we went to the bookstore. I LOVE bookstores. I could spend hours there.
So there we were, the scene was idyllic. I was sitting in a chair reading to Riley and George the cutest book that I was totally into (Stripes, I highly recommend it) and Ben was sitting next to us enthralled in his book. It is usually exactly when I am thinking what a great moment this is that something like this happens.
"EM!" Ben cries. I look up to see Sammy's cute little diaper cover and her diaper inside sitting in front of us, only no Sammy. I hop up and begin searching the aisles. I found her standing in front of the board books, flipping through one of the titles. A sigh of relief comes over me, we found her. Then my relief quickly turns to terror as I notice the pile of poop behind her.
"BEN!" We both stand there staring at the scene, unable to take the next step. All the while Sammy is flipping through her book oblivious to our horror. Ben announces he is going to quickly purchase his book and I am to get the kids to the car.
I am wondering if purchasing a $20 book will negate the fact that my daughter pooped in your store. As I am thinking this I frantically look through my purse for something to clean it up. Of course, I am all out of wipes and all that I have is a cloth diaper. I am bending over trying to wipe it up when Riley walks up behind me, "Did Sammy poop on the floor?"
"No!" I say with the poopy evidence in my hand. "We need to leave now." I scoop up Sammy and quickly usher Riley and George out of the book store.
We are literally running for the exit with a bare bottomed baby when Riley yells to one of the employees, "Excuse me. My sister..."
"Riley, RILEY be quiet"
We get to the car and I strap Sammy into her seat, bottomless. Ben gets into the car with his purchase and we both burst out laughing. I just can't help thinking of the poor person who is closing up that night telling their fellow employees, "you are not going to believe this but someone pooped in the children's section."
It is one of those things you think by your third child you think you have seen it all, and then something like this happens and you realize you haven't.
The moral of the story: Anytime something you have falls on the floor of a public place, just leave it. You never know, someone may have pooped there. You just never know.
Friday, October 16, 2009
The poop and the pond
There is a community pond in my neighborhood right in the entrance and there is a man who brings his dog there to poop and doesn't pick it up. I find I am not easily upset by many things, but for whatever reason this makes me so mad.
The other day George, Sammy and I are heading out of the neighborhood to pick up Riley from swimming when I spot him. There is the man with his 100lb black lab heading toward our pond. I turn away from the exit of the neighborhood and head back in to catch him red handed. "Mom, where are we going?"
"Don't worry about it George." I am on a mission to rid this pond of poo.
As I pull up the car my timing is perfect, the dog is mid-squat ears down. I roll down my window, "excuse me, why do you bring your dog to the pond to poo?" I feel like maybe my argument is dampened because I can not say crap because the kids are in the car.
"Because I don't want to pick it up in my yard." The man replies. Just as I suspected!
"Well the people who live here enjoy this pond and I am sure your gigantic dog takes gigantic poos and we don't want to step in it!" I yell back, again feeling a little foolish that the harshest word I can use is poo.
"So call the mayor!" He says as him and his monsterous lab head back towards their house.
I roll my window up feeling satisfied and head toward the exit once again. George quietly chimes in from the back, "uh Mom, did we drive all the way over here just to tell him that?"
"Yes we did George, yes we did."
The other day George, Sammy and I are heading out of the neighborhood to pick up Riley from swimming when I spot him. There is the man with his 100lb black lab heading toward our pond. I turn away from the exit of the neighborhood and head back in to catch him red handed. "Mom, where are we going?"
"Don't worry about it George." I am on a mission to rid this pond of poo.
As I pull up the car my timing is perfect, the dog is mid-squat ears down. I roll down my window, "excuse me, why do you bring your dog to the pond to poo?" I feel like maybe my argument is dampened because I can not say crap because the kids are in the car.
"Because I don't want to pick it up in my yard." The man replies. Just as I suspected!
"Well the people who live here enjoy this pond and I am sure your gigantic dog takes gigantic poos and we don't want to step in it!" I yell back, again feeling a little foolish that the harshest word I can use is poo.
"So call the mayor!" He says as him and his monsterous lab head back towards their house.
I roll my window up feeling satisfied and head toward the exit once again. George quietly chimes in from the back, "uh Mom, did we drive all the way over here just to tell him that?"
"Yes we did George, yes we did."
Monday, October 12, 2009
A camping we will go
So this weekend we did it, the ultimate in family time... we went camping. We went all out to the woods. We slept in tents, cooked all our meals over an open flame, went on nature hikes, peed in the woods. We did it all.
My husband and I were a little reluctant to go since the temp would go down into the 30's that night and morning. We were also a concerned because camping doesn't always agree with one-year-olds. It was also not ideal because Ben had to work the next day and would have to wake up and leave at 5 a.m.. This would leave him to have to wake up so early, and me to breakdown camp all by my lonesome. But we were going with friends and we knew they would be there for us.
Despite it all we were bound and determined to give our children the experience. I mean they would always remember the camping trip they got to go on with their friends, right?
It turns out we were right, the camping or the cold or the combination of both did not agree with the one year old. She woke up in the night screaming, "STOP, MOM, STOP!" I was looking around like are you serious? Was she upset that I was actually sleeping and she wanted me to stop, what was I doing that I needed to stop? But she continued to scream for me to stop so I had to take her into the car for the sake of the others and spend the remainder of the night there.
Anywho, I was able to break down camp without Ben (although I did have plenty of help from our friends) and make it home.
As we were eating lunch we were all too exhausted to talk. We all smelled like "vagabons" according to Riley and when I looked in the mirror I noticed that I actually had a smear of soot on my cheek.
All of the sudden George pipped up, "Can you even believe we got hot chocolate?"
Are you serious?! That entire camping extravaganza and that is what he took away from it?! Next time we may stick to the backyard.
My husband and I were a little reluctant to go since the temp would go down into the 30's that night and morning. We were also a concerned because camping doesn't always agree with one-year-olds. It was also not ideal because Ben had to work the next day and would have to wake up and leave at 5 a.m.. This would leave him to have to wake up so early, and me to breakdown camp all by my lonesome. But we were going with friends and we knew they would be there for us.
Despite it all we were bound and determined to give our children the experience. I mean they would always remember the camping trip they got to go on with their friends, right?
It turns out we were right, the camping or the cold or the combination of both did not agree with the one year old. She woke up in the night screaming, "STOP, MOM, STOP!" I was looking around like are you serious? Was she upset that I was actually sleeping and she wanted me to stop, what was I doing that I needed to stop? But she continued to scream for me to stop so I had to take her into the car for the sake of the others and spend the remainder of the night there.
Anywho, I was able to break down camp without Ben (although I did have plenty of help from our friends) and make it home.
As we were eating lunch we were all too exhausted to talk. We all smelled like "vagabons" according to Riley and when I looked in the mirror I noticed that I actually had a smear of soot on my cheek.
All of the sudden George pipped up, "Can you even believe we got hot chocolate?"
Are you serious?! That entire camping extravaganza and that is what he took away from it?! Next time we may stick to the backyard.
Friday, October 9, 2009
If this doesn't warm your heart...
Yesterday, as usual, Sammy, Georgie and I sat in car line eagerly awaiting Riley's arrival.
Like most afternoons we sat quietly as they read the names and the children headed out to their cars. Riley hears her name and like a rock just released from a slingshot she explodes from the sidewalk and rockets to the car. I wince as she approaches the door hoping she will be able to stop.
As usual once she is inside the once quiet car turns into an explosion of energy. "I GOT A SUCKER AT SCHOOL!" She not so casually announces.
Sammy begins her chorus, "sucker, sucker, sucker, sucker" with her pudgy hand outstretched.
"she got a sucker!" George begins to wail and breaks down into tears of injustice.
I turn around and face the wheel. I take a deep breath and decided to let the situation play itself out. She has been in the car for one minute and that has been one exhausting minute.
We begin our drive out of the school parking lot and the car goes eerily quiet. For a second I am afraid they have all killed each other over a tootsie pop and it would be best not to turn around. I look anyway. They are all sitting quietly happily munching away.
"What happened?' I ask.
"I took a bite and then George took a bite and then we gave Sammy the rest." Riley informs me. I almost burst into tears. While sharing may not be that big a thing to some people, for a mom that has been attempting to instill it in her children for the better part of 7 years, this was quiet a victory.
I know, for all you germaphobes out there, that this story is appalling and there is no happy ending. However, for me, I am willing to overlook the incredible risk of all my kids getting the flu in order to have a quiet ride home.
Like most afternoons we sat quietly as they read the names and the children headed out to their cars. Riley hears her name and like a rock just released from a slingshot she explodes from the sidewalk and rockets to the car. I wince as she approaches the door hoping she will be able to stop.
As usual once she is inside the once quiet car turns into an explosion of energy. "I GOT A SUCKER AT SCHOOL!" She not so casually announces.
Sammy begins her chorus, "sucker, sucker, sucker, sucker" with her pudgy hand outstretched.
"she got a sucker!" George begins to wail and breaks down into tears of injustice.
I turn around and face the wheel. I take a deep breath and decided to let the situation play itself out. She has been in the car for one minute and that has been one exhausting minute.
We begin our drive out of the school parking lot and the car goes eerily quiet. For a second I am afraid they have all killed each other over a tootsie pop and it would be best not to turn around. I look anyway. They are all sitting quietly happily munching away.
"What happened?' I ask.
"I took a bite and then George took a bite and then we gave Sammy the rest." Riley informs me. I almost burst into tears. While sharing may not be that big a thing to some people, for a mom that has been attempting to instill it in her children for the better part of 7 years, this was quiet a victory.
I know, for all you germaphobes out there, that this story is appalling and there is no happy ending. However, for me, I am willing to overlook the incredible risk of all my kids getting the flu in order to have a quiet ride home.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
I'm cryin'!
Recently, my youngest child (Sammy Rose) has exploded with vocabulary. She has become very vocal in what she wants and has even recently started to narrate her own life. The other night she was having a rough night. I think her last baby teeth are about to make an appearance. Anyway, she was up in her room wailing and then I hear, "I'm cryin'! I'm cryin'!"
Sammy and her big sister Riley share a room. Soon after I hear about Sammy cryin' I hear Riley tell Sammy to be quiet. Through the sniffles Sammy says, "OK." then settles down and goes to sleep.
Sammy and her big sister Riley share a room. Soon after I hear about Sammy cryin' I hear Riley tell Sammy to be quiet. Through the sniffles Sammy says, "OK." then settles down and goes to sleep.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
A new day
I've decided to take a new turn with my blog. I think I need to write what I know about, my kids. They give me inspiration everyday. They usually leave me laughing and I hope they will leave you laughing to. If not, you can just learn what it is like to live with a bunch of crazies.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)