I woke up this morning and knew it was going to be one of those days my mom told me about. I was running late, although not too late to be very concerned. I picked up my normal snail's pace just a little (much to the delight of rushing suburbanites). I drop Amelia off and Eli says "Amelia I'm going to miss you at school." Heart warmed.
Then I learned that a friend of mine is not well and I'd have to do some stuff without her for the Bible study I'm in. Not a big deal...that's why I'm trained and there's one other lady that helps me out (we're kind of a rockin' team!). And really, I'm concerned about my friend more than having to do a few extra things. The morning went really smooth, few hiccups, and my friend got to stay home, relax and know that things were taken care of.
After the Bible study, I got Eli, dropped him off at school (seconds before the teacher came to get them) and went home. I ate lunch, watched TV, and got the dog ready for a walk. Brring, brring! The phone rang just as we were heading out the door. "Mrs. Moser, this is Eli's teacher. He had another accident. He says he can take care of it himself, but I wanted to call you to make sure. I'd hate for him to stink or walk around with poop stuck on him."
I thought about it for a minute and decided to see if, in fact, my son could handle it. Off the phone, walked the dog (quick 15 min since I haven't been out for a while), and was in the beginning stages of poop pick up in the back yard. The kids sled (out because we had snow for a millisecond, then it melted with the ridiculously warm weather we're having) had rested very nicely on 3-4 huge, mushy then frozen, piles of poop. EW! And 4x EWWWWW!!!! So I haul it to the side of the house, out of site so the kids don't see it, with plans to somehow disinfect/clean it (and by me, I mean my husband). Back to picking up poop. Almost done.
Brrring, Brrring! "Mrs. Moser, this is Eli's teacher again. He's decided he needs you now." Ok...I'm on my way. Be there in 15.
Throw my stuff together and I'm out the door. It's 1:40pm. Get to the school in 8 mins, to the classroom, straight to the bathroom (2nd time this has happened this year so I know exactly where to go)...and find Eli naked, shivering and with poop still on his toosh. And his leg. And maybe a few spots on his feet. There's water on the floor and I'm sort of wondering where it came from, but it isn't my first concern. A better mom would have, well, I'm really not sure...what does a sane person do in that situation? I, the over tired been here before crazy mom, laughed. But I hid it well enough that I don't think Eli heard me. Maybe I was hoping the teacher didn't hear me (the bathroom is attached to the classroom and only has one stall at a time).
So I'm scratching my head trying to figure out where to go from here. OK...let's see your booty. Yep, still poop.
Eli: Mom, I tried to flush then water went all over the place over the toilet.
Pause for dramatic effect (it took a second to sink in). Realization hit, I look and, sure enough, the toilet is jam packed with poopy toilet paper. Then I look at my feet. Then I look at my son's feet. His braces on the floor, the bag of clean clothes, luckily still closed, also wet and on the floor. And I gag. Um, we're taking you home, son. This is poopy water and you've been walking in it for how long?!
So I peek my head out the door to let the teacher know I need a plunger. She said don't worry about it, we'll call the janitor.
And, yes, my son is still standing there naked in poopy water (most of it drained in a drain on the floor though, I think. I'm choosing to add that to my memory if it isn't true). FINALLY, while noticing my son's chattering teeth I pull myself together enough to get him dressed and home we go.
Eli: Mom, I got so many poops out I'm hungry again.
Where does this kid come up with this stuff...he is too much! We get home; I wipe him down, put him in the tub and head downstairs to clean up his poopy clothes, very much dreading seeing what is hidden in the plastic grocery bag. First his shirt...nothing. Then his socks...nothing. Then his pants with boxers...oh man, this is going to be a disaster! The boxers didn't have much in them because, well, they're boxers with no elastic on the bottom. And on the trip down his leg the mesh on the inside of the pant leg had managed to collect most of the poop, explaining the poop on his leg. Go ahead and try to imagine smooshing poop out of the inside of that..I dare you. Don't try this at home, folks.
We only have an hour to get him cleaned up, so I get him out of the bath and whisk him away to pick up Amelia. Amelia's teacher nodded me over to her. "She got an orange today during her specials. Both her art and library teachers said she was wild and not listening."
Now, I ask you, why do my children have to have bad days together?! And yes, they were in bed before 7pm.
Sigh. Breath in. Breathe out.