Poopy Pool

There are no words for what the last two hours consisted of.

This morning I thought of how I missed my friend and was longing for some woman chat time. Even if it meant the kids made a mess or watched an insane amount of TV, endless treats, and iPad use just to make it possible.

So I sent a text... and voila we made it happen. 

                                                                                           Of course all of the above mentioned craziness ensued quickly. But we managed to microwave our coffee and fit in bits of conversation and connection amidst the chaos of four little boys four and under.

Then some of the unthinkable happened... The volume was just too much to stay inside our little ransacked living room. So we made our way outside. There is our small kiddie swimming pool, which at the moment was filled with mud and muck. It was pretty disgusting. Little Brooklyn (not quite one years old yet) kept wanting to splash and play, so we eventually let him get in. Which led of course to Caleb & Connor taking off their clothes and jumping in. So we have four little boys playing in this disgusting pool. We had to stop them from drinking the water multiple times... but hey-- we are in this together and getting to connect... well worth it.

I kept eyeing little Brooklyn's diaper as in enlarged rapidly (not a swimmie diaper we were going with the flow here folks.) I kept wondering is it brown in there from all the muck and dirt in the water or did he actually poop. So finally we take a peek... it's poop alright and it's filled up. So I'm holding Cade trying to keep Brooklyn up while Mel runs to get wipes. It was some of the nastiest baby diaper filling I'd seen. We managed to clean up, get the sopping diaper in the trash, manage the boys and figured what every normal mom would right?!?!? Just go ahead and let him in now, he's already pooped, he's good to go.

WRONG. Very very wrong. Minutes later Mel spots a lovely little "log" at the bottom then we realize along with the dirt floating there are some carrot chunks. We go into crazy mommy mode and get him and the rest of the boys out of the pool. Try playing catch with the log in the pool.. until we realize we just have to dump it all. We set the babies down and try to drag this heavy load of a pool into the grass area.

And the story really should end there. But instead we realize while dragging and dumping the pool and all of its chunks into the grass we somehow riled up a pile of ants and they are crawling all over us. I mean literally all over my feet, my legs... on boys. Then I look over and Caleb is peeing all over the door, ground, fan, etc. Cade is crying. And what can you do but.... LAUGH.

As we're finally cleaning up and getting inside Connor decides to throw handfuls of MY organic corn flakes all over the ground inside & out. Sort of the icing on the cake.

So we survived, as you can imagine we were both ready for naptime and I rewarded myself with a quiet lunch by myself in bed rather than attacking the piles of laundry and dishes. And writing this craziness down, because we do it all FOR THE LOVE and I want to remember these crazy stories to share with them one day and just LAUGH about the poopy pool and all.

"Be sure to celebrate the many small things.. bright days, good friends and anything with sprinkles."  Mel & I saw this on my counter and commented on how good this is and what we're doing... celebrating life. (Even with dirty feet and dirty floors!) This is good living.

Moms Know Best

It is summertime and blazing hot outside so in light of Rich already having a beach trip planned with our interns, we decided to pack up the boys and all go with him as well.  The forecast, 71 degrees; the perfect weather for our little albino to run in the sun without mom having to plaster him several times in sunscreen.  Because there are no two things that pair worse together than sand… and sunscreen.  Unless you count lipstick and couches, which is a story for another day but I digress.

 

The beach.  Perfect summer bliss.

 

That was until we got there and it was really 90 outside, thanks weather people, which meant that once again half of the time I would be fighting my little one to cover every square inch of his very pale body with sunscreen that lacked the magical powers it would need to possess to really protect it from the death rays that most of us call sunlight.  He doesn’t know it now as he pushes away- screaming and yelling- but mom really does know best.    

 

At first he wanted nothing to do with the “pool” (also known as the ocean) but soon found how wonderful it was to have the waves brush over your feet and he was hooked.  “Throw sand, play in water, have mom douse me in sunscreen, repeat” that was his day.  At one point we even buried an intern and Jake found it quite comical to sit beside him covering his mouth and throwing dirt at his face.  Who am I kidding; we all found it quite comical.  Even passersby would get a good chuckle out of it as they stopped for a few minutes to watch the commotion. 

 

 

As the day began to wind down we headed for the cars and that’s when I spotted it.  The sun burn.  Not just any sun burn but a giant red raccoon-eyed sunburn.  He had rubbed his eyes so much (from crying, being exhausted from skipping a nap, and hating that horrid sunscreen on his face) that he had wiped off any thing standing between him and the Death Star.  (Star Wars reference for the sun, my mom will appreciate that one)

 

So here we sit the next day.  Fighting with him to spray aloe vera all over his puffy lobster-colored eyes in hopes that it can help to keep them from peeling; which of course feels great I’m sure as we rub it over his barely scabbed forehead from falling out of a hammock only a few days before.  And of course we get the pleasure of reapplying every few hours… again. 

 

 

Children.  They fight the very things that were created to help them.

 

 

 

  

 

FOR THE LOVE!


 

The Many Faces of Mom

"Excuse you?!"

"Grossssss" 

"Watch it Mister!"

"Please no." 

"Don't even think about it." 

"Why me!?" // pure exhaustion 

So I realized that without saying a word, just by my look-- sometimes my boys will run and hide, apologize to myself or their brother, cry, scream, laugh, etc.... Oh what a "look" is capable of. 

It's especially nice when no words that are raging through my mind would be quite appropriate, that a look will do. 

For example, when we are in a public place and my boys are being crazy and nothing that is currently running through my mind would suffice– Without getting me an assortment of dirty looks and judgemental glances (as if their behavior isn't already doing that enough)– like when we're at our favorite sushi restaurant and they decide their chopsticks are really drumsticks and that everyone who came to dine tonight actually was coming to hear their extraordinary drumming. 

Or like when Connor takes his paint brush meant for the "paint wall" at the children's museum and decides to paint another mommy's leg! 

There. Are. No. Words. 

Minus the good 'ol fashioned full name calling. "Connor James Zick!!!" 

Or a more light-hearted one yesterday–

when I caught Connor red-handed with my Starbucks–I gave the "excuse me sir" look and his response was kind of funny (the kind where you're trying to hide your laugh as to not give allowance for it)... He giggled, kept drinking and said in the cutest two-year-old voice, "You'll never get it nowwwww." 

So for now I will continue to work on my repertoire of "looks", all... 

FOR THE LOVE!

Nakey Jakey

This new naked trend isn’t really new at all.  From the dawn of time toddlers have rioted against clothing of any kind and have run amuck in houses everywhere, free as a bird.  This of course is acceptable when you are in the comforts of your own home.  But children never abide by the “culturally acceptable”.  In fact, on my last trip to my parent’s house my youngest son (age 2 1/2) decided that it was too hot for clothing once again and stripped down to his birthday suit in their backyard.  No big deal, I thought.  No one will be offended by a little Nakey Jakey back here, and if he has to pee… well, there’s grass.

 

Distracted, as I was, cleaning the patio area before my sister-in-law’s graduation party- I began to see the downfall of this decision.  I realized that my son had found some glass decorations to play with and instead of prying them from his tiny fingers which would have immediately sent him into a tantrum of epic proportions (because these days there are no such things as small tantrums), I opted to watch him closely by playing with him.

 

We being shoulder to shoulder on the cold cement, Jacob standing and me kneeling, the thing I thought would never happened did.  After a split second grunt, which sounded more like a raspy hiccup, down fell a chunk of poop.  A CHUNK OF POOP.  ON THE CEMENT.  A whole field of grass and he decides to not allow his need “to go” disturb the glass bird and cage he was playing with.  He just continued playing.  He didn’t even flinch. 

 

My eyes widened as I smelt what had just happened, and as calm as possible looked to my mother and asked for a piece of toilet paper. 

 

“What do you need it for?” she asked.

 

Still in shock I simply replied, “Do you smell that? Jake just pooped on your patio.”

 

We all had a great laugh, but for the rest of the evening as guests began to show and I look down to the spot where that little thing was planted I couldn’t help but feel queasy wondering if there were any remnants left.  I scrubbed that spot as best I could, but there’s no feeling clean after that.

 

Children.  They get poop everywhere.

 

FOR THE LOVE!