Not Just a Poop Story

I know people who don’t have children get really tired of hearing people who do have children talk about their kids’ poop.  I get that.  Totally makes sense, but here’s the deal.    You have no idea how much your life revolves around poop for several years once you have children.  Literally from the moment they take their first breaths, you become concerned about the frequency and type of poop your children have.  (If you don’t know what meconium is, wait until you are about to have a baby to google it.)

Every proud parent can tell you at least one story that involves one or more of the following:

1. Ruined Christening/Christmas/Easter outfits
2. Changing the sheets on a bassinet/crib/bed multiple times in one night
3. Poop in a carseat
4. Ten days without poop, resulting in the use of baby enemas
5. Realizing the problem too late because poop has escaped UP a shirt, spilling out a baby’s collar
6. Bathtub poop

And for some reason, we all LOVE to tell these stories to anyone who will listen, despite the fact that common sense says this is NOT appropriate.  No way, no how.

I’m at the stage now where poop is less of an issue because my children are five and two.  Poop just doesn’t affect my life all that often anymore.  So...

Ben and I picked up Will from school and headed to karate just like we do every Monday.  There’s a Carvel next door to the karate studio, so it’s become a tradition that we grab an ice cream and soft pretzel to share before heading to Will’s class.  As Will slurped down his melting hot pink birthday cake ice cream, a look of panic crossed his face.  I knew the look.

“Mom, I need to go to the bathroom.  Right now.  I feel sick.”

I hopped up and scooted him toward the door, as he waddled across the restaurant.  He pushed my hands away and said, “I want to go by myself.”

When he came back out, I asked, “Everything okay?”

He acted like everything was fine, skipping even to throw his empty ice cream cup away, and we headed next door to karate.  We headed toward the bathroom, so Will could change into his uniform, and when he dropped his school pants, I threw up in my mouth.

EVERYTHING.  WAS.  NOT.  FINE.

“Holy shit.”  It came out before I could stop it, and I covered my mouth and nose to stop from vomiting.  Through a small opening in my fingers, I said, “Buddy, what happened?”

“Oh, I had diarrhea before I got to the toilet!”  He said this in the same way he would have said, “I like superheroes!”

I stripped him down and threw away his underwear (silencing his protests of “my Batman underwear!” with fire in my eyes and a quick, “We’ll buy more!”), then wrapped his pants in a trash bag I found under the sink.  Will recovered well from the loss of his beloved undies with a “Welp, I guess I’m goin’ commando!”

We hurried out of the bathroom, and I tied his belt on, turning him toward me.  “Will, if you start to feel sick again, get off the floor IMMEDIATELY.  Go straight to the bathroom.  Don’t ask.  Just go.”

Will, doe-eyed and mouth gaping, whispered, “Okay, I promise.”  I wish I could say I was being a good mom and wanting to save my child the embarrassment of a public poo incident, but really, I was just thinking I already have to depoop one pair of pants tonight--I do not want to have to depoop white karate pants, too!

We made it through the class and got in the car to leave.  Three minutes down the road, we were sitting at a red light, when I glanced in the rearview mirror to see a red-faced Will, eyes bulging in desperation.  I said, “Buddy, are you okay?  Do I need to pull over?”

“YES!  It’s happening again!”

“Okayokayokayokayokayokay!!!”  Cursing the red light, I scanned the road for a place to stop and landed on a CVS.  I forgot to mention that I was driving in a torrential downpour.  Nothing to do with poop, but it did make our mad dash to the store (Ben flailing off my hip, and Will trying his best to not fall down in his flip-flops) even more fun.  Because you know what’s better than poopy karate pants?  Poopy, rain-soaked karate pants.

We found the bathroom, and Will continued to explode.  And I actually threw up in the trash can.  Ben stood at the Xcelerator, waving his hands under the air (which was good because he was soaking wet from the rain) and laughing hysterically.  Thank God.

Realizing Will now had no pants, I told him to stay where he was while I went to find him some underwear and shorts in the store.  Praying that no one needed to use the bathroom while my poor, poopy five-year-old sat pantsless on the pot by himself, I scanned all the shelves as fast as I could, dragging Ben behind me.  “Look for undies!  Look for undies!”

The manager (probably in an effort to make sure I wasn’t a crazed meth addict looking to score some pseudo) stopped me and asked if he could help me.  This is when I learned that CVS does not sell:

1. Children’s underwear
2. Women’s underwear
3. Men’s underwear
4. Children’s shorts
5. Children’s pants
6. Children’s leggings (yes, I asked--I would have just told Will they were superhero pants if he asked why I was making him wear girl pants)

PULL-UPS!  I ran to the diaper aisle and grabbed a package of pull-ups and ran back to the bathroom to make sure no one had kidnapped my poor, poopy son that I’d left in the bathroom by himself.  There he was, still sitting by himself.  When I opened the door, he said, “Mom, I’m still pooping.  It’s like a tornado in the toilet.”

Awesome.

I realized (after looking up at a “No Merchandise Past This Point” sign as I burst through the bathroom door) that I was definitely going to need to go back out to the car to get my wallet to pay for my ripped open bag of pull-ups.  I told Will to stay and ran with Ben back to the car to get my wallet, praying again that none of the employees would make their hourly rounds to clean the bathroom and turn me into child services for abandoning my poor, poopy five-year-old.

When I got back to the bathroom, I placed Ben back under the Xcelerator, and helped Will get cleaned up.  Let me tell you now that I am really, really, really grateful that Will in this instance decided to be easy-going (I sometimes call him Contrary Mary for his ability to make every situation more difficult than it needs to be .)

Will, my beautiful boy, had to walk out of the CVS bathroom in a bright green karate t-shirt, a pull-up, and a pair of flip-flops (which were about two sizes too small but had been forced on his feet by his mother because they were the only ones in his karate bag and she didn’t want to waste time tying his school shoes).  And he didn’t complain at all.

As we walked toward the counter, I was struck with the realization that because of this CVS encounter, we were now set back time-wise to set us up for Charleston traffic failure.  We would probably be in the car on the way home somewhere between an hour and an hour and a half, right through dinnertime.  So, I marched my diapered, pantsless five-year-old and half-way blown-dry 2-year-old to the snack aisle and let them pick out dinner.  And I also said yes when they asked if they could buy some more silly bands because really--what’s the purpose of saying no at that point?

Armed with my open bag of pull-ups, two one-serving bowls of Fruit Loops, and a package of peanut butter crackers (oh, and a pair of poopy karate pants), we approached the register to pay.  I know the woman really wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but I averted my eyes.  She was gracious enough to not press.  Before she’d finished ringing me up, I said to Will, “Grab those ring pops!”  My children have been raised in the south, and no meal is complete without “somethin’ sweet” even if that meal is Fruit Loops and peanut butter crackers.

As we dashed back through the rain to the car, both boys held on to the edges of my jacket (as they have been instructed to do in parking lots), laughing the whole way.  As I got them buckled in, getting drenched the whole time, Will yelled, “Mom, that store was awesome!”

Right.

We eventually made it home (in one hour and twenty minutes), got cleaned up and jammied, and read bedtime stories.  I put Ben to bed.  I put Will to bed.  And I sat down to write.  When I’m finished posting this, I’m going to go soak two pairs of pants while I watch The Bachelor and drink wine.  

Yes, it’s completely brain-numbing and worthless, but I think you’ll agree, friends, that tonight is not the night to judge me.

It's in the Bible (Part 4)

Every Sunday, I’m posting my thoughts about reading the Bible in 90 days with my Sunday school class.  If you need to catch up, try these first: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

I was already behind the power curve with my reading this week because I was slack last week.  Then, I didn’t do well this week because my dad came into town, and I spent all my free time taking advantage of free babysitting getting stuff done around the house, so I can put it on the market soon.  So, I played MAJOR catch up on Saturday and actually made up a good portion of what I was supposed to read.

I think if you asked the average Christian to talk about 1&2 Samuel and 1&2 Kings, they would stare at you blankly.  HOWEVER, there are actually a lot of really well-known Bible stories in these books, which is nice because it makes for easy/interesting reading.

Someone in my Sunday school class made the point (and it’s one I’ve heard before) that it’s important to remember when reading the OT that the stories are not supposed to be illustrations about human nature, but rather, the illustrations are supposed to be ways for us to understand God better.  

It’s an interesting thought, but I don’t know that I can agree.  I mean, these stories certainly paint a very vivid picture of God, but I can emphatically say that very little of what I have read so far about God makes me understand him any better.  If anything, reading about a God who is vengeful and inconsistent makes me feel less sure about what I believe.  I’m not saying it’s impossible to connect with God through these stories, but I find it way more productive/interesting to think about the people in these stories, the decisions they are making, how they relate to God, and the relationships they have with each other.  We’ve got four major players (and about a million minor players, some of which I will discuss through their relationships with the major players).

Not sure if this is supposed to be Samuel or Peter Pan.

Samuel: When I was little, Samuel was one of my favorite characters.  I vividly remember my mom telling me the story of the little boy whose life was dedicated to God before he was ever born because his mom was so grateful to have even conceived him.  His mom, Hannah, gives him to a priest, Eli, to raise him, and one night, Samuel keeps hearing Eli call his name.  After a few times, he realizes it’s not Eli at all--it’s God.  God is calling his name OUT LOUD.  I was always so envious of this and waited and waited for God to call my name out audibly in the middle of the night.  Either it never happened, or I was just such a sound sleeper that I never heard it.  (I actually had that thought as a child--that maybe I was just sleeping too hard.)  Samuel ends up being the guy who eventually chooses Saul to be the first king that Israel has had in years.  He dies at an old age with all kinds of respect from the people.

All of the pictures of Saul had him holding a spear, probably because he killed so many people by running spears through them.  (David was able to dodge the spear a few times.)

Saul: So, Israel had been functioning well under the rule of judges rather than kings, but they started demanding a king.  Samuel anoints Saul, and he is described as “an impressive young man without equal among the Israelites--a head taller than any of the others.”  At first, Saul seems to be pretty humble, level-headed, and most importantly, really good at killing enemies (since his entire reign is plagued by war), but it doesn’t last long.  He begins to act foolishly (in Samuel’s words), and when Samuel informs him that his time will come to an end, he goes into super paranoid/aggressive mode.  Once he knows that David (who happens to be best friends with Saul’s son, Jonathan) will succeed him, he becomes hellbent on killing David, despite the fact that David is one of Saul’s most impressive warriors and they have a close personal relationship.  Saul spins out of control as his obsession with David drives him crazy, eventually ending his life by falling on his own sword.

Here are a few pictures that came up when I googled "David and Bathsheba" that do not, in fact, have anything to do with David or Bathsheba: 

David:  King David (the very same David who was also a shepherd boy who defeated the giant, Goliath) is arguably the most important figure in the Old Testament, so it seems completely ridiculous to try to blog about his life.  I mean, I could write pages about the stories of this man’s life.  I have to admit that going into this reading, I was feeling a little bit snarky thinking about what a screw-up David was, but the more I read about him the more I felt a connection to him as a human being.  David killed a lot of people as the leader of Judah and then Israel as well.  He’s famous for his affair with a married woman, Bathsheba, and then the subsequent murder of her husband to cover up their affair when she becomes pregnant.  Not exactly a role model for life, but here’s the deal.  I connected with David because even though I have never impregnated a married woman and killed her husband, I have certainly felt the way he did following his actions.  

Maybe it’s the leftover evangelical tendencies, but I have deep respect for people who a) own up to their actions, b) ask for forgiveness, and c) express regret in a meaningful way.  (Insight into my issues: much of the obstacles I face in getting over my anger at the church involves people who can NOT do this.)  We see David ask for forgiveness over and over again.  And it’s not the same way the other guys in the OT have done so far.  It seems like everyone else looked for a formula--sacrifice this animal on an altar and perform this or that ritual--but David seems to actually care about righting his wrongs in a real way--not just ceremonially.  When he is confronted by the prophet Nathan about his sins, his first response is, “I have sinned against the Lord.”  Maybe this is what it means when Samuel describes him as “a man after God’s own heart.”  

Another thing that sets David apart in my mind is his ability to overlook/forgive other people’s wrongs.  Up to this point, there has been a pattern with leaders--someone makes them mad/goes against what God wants in their mind, and then they kill that person.  But David seems to have no end to his ability to forgive.  Even after Saul makes multiple attempts to kill him, David mourns Saul’s death, lamenting, “Saul and Jonathan--in life they were loved and gracious...”

In my short 30 years, I have learned that these two concepts--the ability to ask for forgiveness and the ability to forgive--have served me better than any other in my relationships with other people.  FACTS:  People are stupid. People are screwed up.  People are going to let me down.  But, the people who are worth the trouble to me are the ones who admit when they’re wrong, make it right, and love me when I’m stupid, screwed up, and less than dependable.

Like I said, I want to keep writing and writing and writing about David (I’ve always been attracted to the brooding, complicated type--but was smart enough to marry the emotionally stable, kind type), but this is a blog.  Other major highlights with David: his relationship with Mephibosheth (the crippled son of Jonathan) and his relationship with Abishag (the beautiful young virgin sent to take care of him in his old age).

This one is VERY dramatic.  Every person in this picture looks like his/her head was disconnected and reconnected incorrectly.  And the baby already looks dead.

Solomon:  The things I remember from childhood about Solomon are that he threatened to have a baby cut in half to figure out who the baby’s real mother was and that he built the “temple of the Lord” that David had always wanted to build.  Oh, and he asked for wisdom, and because of this noble request, God gave him a lot of other stuff to go with it.  As a child, I prayed all the time for wisdom.  I don’t know when I stopped doing that, but between the stresses of adult life and the lost brain cells from mommyhood, I should probably start doing that again.  I’m only half kidding.

As far as building the temple goes--I know God told him to do it or whatever, but I have a huge chip on my shoulder about building projects after attending church after church after church after church that “doesn’t have money in the budget” for community outreach or mission projects around the world but spend most of their time and resources raising money for a new sanctuary.  IT MAKES ME WANT TO PUKE.  I got really lost in all the measurements and descriptions of materials--plus, I was projecting my modern-day issues on Solomon.  I’m sure it was real nice (said in my best Cousin Eddie voice) and all, but well, where’s the temple now?  Where’s that giant monument?  Oh, that’s right.  King Nebuchadnezzar (best Bible name ever!) destroyed it just a few decades later.  So, what’s the lesson, Christian people?  Let’s spend less money on stuff and more money on taking care care of widows and orphans.  K?  K.

SOOOOOOO, I’m supposed to be at the end of 2 Kings by now, and I’m not quite there.   The good news is that at the end of this next week, I’ll be halfway through the OT.  WOOHOO!!!  As much as I have enjoyed reading all this history (I’m not being sarcastic), I’m ready for some poetry and prophecy.

Thanks again, for reading.  I’m a little bit distracted by the Super Bowl, so I hope this made sense.

Saturday Night TV Dribble

I didn't have time to watch TV this week because I was busy taking advantage of free babysitting while my dad was in town, but I did catch a few things this morning while the boys were playing upstairs, and I was working on our taxes.  (On a related note, tax season is the ONLY time of year when I'm glad we're in the Air Force--cha ching!)  I almost didn't write anything, but gaaaawwwwd, it's such a guilty pleasure.

The Bachelor

So, here are the highlights of this week:

• Brad takes Chawntel/Shantel/Shawntel/Chantelle (I can’t keep the ridiculous names straight) on a date in Vegas and lets her buy whatever she wants.  WHATEVER SHE WANTS.  And I’m not talking about a dress and a necklace.  I’m talking about--she picks it up, it’s hers.  I would really like to know how much ABC ended up spending.  There were like 10 bags, and one of them had a $5,000 handbag.  Hook a sister up!  Who cares if she ends up with the man?  She’s got enough swag to make the weeks of looking like a desperate idiot on national television worth it.
• Group date: can we get off this Emily thing?  The poor girl lost her fiance/baby daddy in a plane crash--her fiance/baby daddy who was a professional race car driver.  And the producers are sending her on a freaking race car driving date!?!  Don’t get me wrong--I like my reality TV served up with a whopping scoop of sensationalism, but leave this girl alone.
• Double date with the Ashleys where one girl has to go home: so, whoever wins between the two girls (who are like total besties in the house) gets to be in an Elvis musical with Brad.  He picks Ashley (the brunette with blonde highlights and bad eyebrows--I know, you still can’t figure out which one I’m talking about, right?), and they are strapped into harnesses to perform in a Cirque du Soleil Elvis disaster.  Ashley’s voiceover (as they are being hoisted into the air together): “I am definitely falling for Brad...holding Brad’s hands makes me feel comfort, makes me feel secure.  I feel so lucky to have Brad.  This is honestly one of the best nights of my life.”  She feels this way while staring at him in spandex camo pants with massive amounts of stage make-up.  Oh, and the other Ashley is crying in the back of the car while Are You Lonesome Tonight? plays in the background.  Classic.
• The girls who are kicked off are both crying.  A LOT.  How are we down to 11 women, and I have no idea who these women are?  Where have they been the whole show?  Either way, no one cares because we don’t even know their names.  Should have punched yourselves in the eyes, ladies!

Cougar Town

Cougar Town is one of those shows that I watch every week because I like to finish what I start and haven’t given myself permission to stop watching even though I kind of feel lame for watching it.  HOWEVER, I really do laugh at this show almost every time I pay attention, and this week was SUPERB.  I have always hated Valentine’s Day for all the obvious reasons, and I loved these snippets:

Ellie Torres:

Ugh...I’m so annoyed.  Tomorrow’s St. Valentine’s Day.  What saint decided that women have to put out just because some idiot bought them an $8 teddy bear?

Captain Emo’s been following me around, yapping about romance and vomiting I love yous all over me.

Laurie Keller:

Buddy, boudoir photos are classy.  Plus, you don’t have to be completely naked.  I sent a photo to this guy in Iraq, and my junk was completely covered by a real stuffed eagle.  So patriotic.

American Idol

Okay, so what’s up with that whole apology for Steven Tyler thing?  I bet someone has already blogged about this, so I should just google it and find out, but I’m too lazy.  So, the first night was in Austin, TX, so it was NO surprise that there were a lot of talented folks.  I didn’t really know what to expect from Hollywood, though, because even though it seems like Hollywood (the “entertainment capital of the world”) would pull out some real talent, there are a lot of people in LA trying to make it big whose friends and family aren’t kind enough to tell them they aren’t that special.

Austin: The first guy who sang (with the sad “I didn’t meet my sister until I was 14” story) sang Bonnie Raitt really well.  I thought he was relatively talented, but the real reason I point it out is because “I Can’t Make You Love Me” is my biggest guilty pleasure shower song.  I literally sing it more than any other song in the shower.  Awesome.

Three words: John Wayne Schulz.  I have always wanted a cowboy of my own, and you would think growing up in OK I would have at least dated one.  Alas, my experience with the cowboy set is limited to one night at a country bar when I danced all night with a man in Wranglers, only to have his girlfriend show up at 1:30 to pick him up and almost punch me as I ran to my car.  Not cool.  Not cool.

Okay, for the record.  I do NOT think Ryan Seacrest is the sexiest man alive.  

This couple, no matter how talented they are, who wants to be the first AI power couple is possibly the mostobnoxiousthingI’veeverseen.

Hollywood:  Yeah, like I said--Austin brought it.  Hollywood brought not.  The best part was how they used subtitles when the man from Arkansas was talking.

Facebook Snowstorm 2011

So, all of my friends in the middle of the country are experiencing the Great Blizzard of 2011.  On Monday night, my entire Facebook news feed was full of comments about going to the grocery store, hyperbolic weathermen, and how everyone was SOOOOOOOOOO happy that __________ school system had cancelled school already.  The next morning, the comments slowly started coming in...

The FB Obvioust: “It’s starting to snow!”

Mom #1: “We’re all in our matching jammies, looking out the big picture window at the GIANT snowflakes!”

Mom #2: “Why did all the kids wake up at 5 am on the one morning we don’t have to be anywhere?  Where’s my coffee?”

The high school student: “yessssss!!!!!!!  no spanish tessssst!!!!!!!!  snow day!!!!!”

The person who still had to go to work, despite the blizzard (PWSHTGTWDTB): Just spent an hour scraping ice off my car and still can’t get in.  Good thing everyone will be late today!

The single guy: “Glad I bought beer last night!”

It is an inexplicable phenomenon, but I have a theory that blizzards make people overuse exclamation points.  I’m just saying.  There was a lull in the status updates during the late morning, as I can only assume everyone was settling in to their movies/board games/baking/late morning naps.  Then, right before lunchtime, it picked up.

The FB Obvioust: “Wow, it’s really coming down!”

Mom #1 (complete with picture): “Check out our snow day crafts!  The best part is everything on the snowman is completely edible!  LML!!!”

Mom #2: “The dog is scared to pee in the snow, so I have now cleaned up pee FOUR TIMES, and it’s not even lunchtime!!!  And someone lost the remote so the TV is stuck on Ni-Hao Kai-Lan.  Where is my coffee?”

The high school student: “LOL my little brother is such a dorrrrrk he just came up to me and was like i wanna make a snowman and i was alllllll ur a dorrrrrrk somebody text me”

PWSHTGTWDTB: “Froze my ass off for an hour and a half getting into my car, and I’m the only one here.  You bitches better show up.  FML.”

The single guy: “Godfather marathon on AMC...score.”

The next two hours were filled with pictures of frosted windows and icicles hanging off of gutters.  I could have made a collage out of the look-how-much-snow-drifted-in-front-of-my-door pictures, a regular montage of snow walls.  Midafternoon I started seeing more status updates.

The FB Obvioust: “Everything is so white and cold!”

Mom #1: “We just played an ENTIRE game of Risk, and I won!  Time for another round of hot cocoa and another log on the fire.  Then, it’s Yahtzee time!!!”

Mom #2: “Could this day get any worse?  The pipes are frozen, and my MIL just called saying she’s sending my FIL over to “help.”  And the dog just found the chocolate we were going to use for smores later, and now he’s ralphing all over the living room floor.”

The high school student: “OMG my little brother is an idiot he jusssst spillllled hot chocolate on my Uggs and i’m going to killllll him texxxxxt meeee pleasssse”

PWSHTGTWDTB: "Better head to the car now since it’s going to take me two hours to dig back in.  If I had contact solution and a toothbrush I’d be tempted to just stay the night.  FML."

The single guy: “Do you think Pizza Hut is delivering?”

Another lull in status messages ensued, as I can only assume people were busy schooling each other in Monopoly, popping more popcorn, and OF COURSE building snowmen, as evidenced by the barrage of pictures that followed.  Oh, and they were also busy taking pictures of their dogs frolicking in the snow.  Lots of dog pictures.  Sometime around dinnertime, I got a lot of this:

The FB Obvioust: “Snow is cold!”

Mom #1: “Chili, corn bread, and german chocolate cake for dinner!  I love snow days with all my favorite people!  Wish every day was a snow day!”

Mom #2: “Fend for yourself night for dinner since it’s really freaking hard to cook anything without running water.”

The high school student: “boooooorrrrred texxxxxxxxt meee”

PWSHTGTWDTB: “Hitching a ride with Troy (accounting Troy, not HR Troy).  Thank God for his Ford 4x4.  The Cabernet can not possibly reach my lips fast enough.  Can someone tell corporate I will not be coming back tomorrow no matter how many emails they send?  Mkay, thanks!”

The single guy: “Bored...somebody text me”

And now before bed, everyone seems to be getting in their last licks.

The FB Obvioust: “The snow is cold, but the ice is colder!”

Mom #1 (complete with picture): “Got everybody tucked in at our living room “camp-out!”  Even the dog is wearing his jammies!  I am so incredibly blessed beyond belief with the BEST family.  They are AMAZING!!!  Happy snow day to all, and to all a good night!”

Mom #2: “Thank God for the Ellisons next door.  Just grabbed a shower at their house, and they’re letting the kids have a slumber party there.  A night with just me and the hubby by the fire!  Too bad he’s already snoring.”

The high school student: “no schooooool tomorrrrrow againnnnn texxxxxt me!”

PWSHTGTWDTB: "Took two hours to get home, only to find I left my keys on my desk.  Waiting for roommate to get home. FML"

The single guy: “How bad are the roads really?  What bars are open?”

It’s been an entertaining day, midwesterners.  I have to admit at the beginning of the day I was envious of the snowed in life.  But right now, I’m pretty happy about the fact that tomorrow’s high is going to be 53, and that’s the coldest it’s been all week here.


(UPDATE: It actually got up to 75.  My kids were in shorts, and if I had had a pedicure in the last two months, I would have been wearing flip-flops.)