Saturday, March 7, 2009


feces, BM, stool, waste, excrement, poop, shit, poo-poo, number two, dropping a load...
No matter what you call it we have it in spades at our house and I've been drowning in it.
Yes, yes, I realize that there is a great little metaphor dangling over my head at this odorous hour, but I prefer to just focus on the facts at hand. I am potty training a two year old and a puppy simultaneously, and doing a poor job with both I might add.
This morning, my little ray of sunshine took off his underwear pleasantly and pooped on his brother's carpet, then waltzed over to me (in the back room) and announced, "I POOP ON BRO-BRO'S FLOOR!". Later that same day, as I finished cleaning him up after his second pee incident and was tending to my urine splattered kitchen floor, he said, "I HAVE TO POO MAMA" simultaneously trailing poop all over the kitchen and down the hall as he scurried toward the toilet. A few short hours later, Maia escaped from her temporary safety zone (she was only in there for a brief 30 minute supper session) and promptly did some sort of frenzied poop dance all over my front sitting room, spinning and flinging poop with wild abandon across the whole of my Santa Fe hemp rug.Now of course, you are all assuming that I handled this with the ease and poise of a seasoned mama and Montessori teacher. Alas, I must disappoint, each time I yell, "OH MY GOD... CRAP!!... THERE IS CRAP ALL OVER THE FLOOR" and stare in horror and dismay at the scene before me, while turning a brilliant shade of scarlet and jumping up and down in the best Yosemite Sam impression I can muster. I occasionally add other superlatives, all of them involve taking someone holy's name in vain... "Holy mother of God there is CRAP on the floor", or just a loud and frenzied, "JESUS!"... I pardon these outbursts, because I hold a fundamental conviction, that in times of great spiritual peril one should call upon whatever great and abiding omnipotence that comes to mind. I can think of no greater need than slipping on crap across spanish tiles or smelling human fecal matter on wool carpet.
Bodhi may be emotionally maimed for life. He has begun announcing JESUS, I POOP IN TOILET!, whether or not he actually does. The dog on the other hand is just endanger of being maimed, throttled and/or incarcerated for life. As for me, I am simply in danger of mild insanity, but I'm in no actual danger, I have already been suffering from the full blown variety for years.

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