Poop

(Warning: I am going to give full disclosure to all that if the title of this post grosses you out, don't even read on. Just move away from your computer because this is about to get as gross as it possibly gets, but it does have a good ending.)

We have had family visiting us for the past eleven days. First my parents came to visit and then Stephen's family came for the Thanksgiving holiday. As for my lack of posts, my back is still really bothering me. I am now going on more than 25 days of back pain. It has been a rough few weeks. So having help to chase around the wild things was so very helpful.

Today was the first day that I was again alone with the two littlest ones. We had had a productive morning, and I was just finishing cleaning the kitchen up (I was cutting up turkey and getting it in the freezer while the kids ate their lunch). The kids were playing around when suddenly I notice a raisin on the floor. I pick it up thinking that our little scavenger found it in some crack or crevice and tried to eat it. Then I notice some mold on it. Upon further examination I think "hmm that is strange looking mold . . . . that's not mold . . . (audible) . . . GASP!" [Warning about to get beyond gross.]

I pick Jacob up by the armpits and run him upstairs to the bathroom floor. He is thrashing around and doesn't want to get his diaper changed on the hard floor. So while I am trying to undress him as carefully as I can to avoid spreading the toxicity, it smears all over the bathroom. So my quick wit thinks put him in the bathtub to contain the mess. I am then yelling to Emma to bring me some wet wipes. I yell and yell and YELL. Emma doesn't not appear. So I get all of the clothes off and manage to contain them in a plastic sack in one end of the bathtub. I yell again for Emma to bring me some wet wipes because now there is a disaster caked on Jacob's backside that needs some attention. Still no sign of Emma. So what do I do? Just use your hand is my thought. So that is precisely what I did. Where did I sign up for that part of motherhood?

Now with Jacob all rinsed off and with him trying to chase little brown spots all around the bathtub, I need to think again about how to clean him thoroughly. So I get him rinsed as best as I can with no visible signs of yuck, wrap him in a towel, and race him off to the tub in my bathroom to get him soaped up and cleaned. We get all soapy and clean in that bathtub. I get him out and dried off. I set him down because he is thrashing and my back is hurting. I yell to Emma to quickly go shut the hallway bathroom door so that Jacob won't get in the offensive mess again. Huge mistake! Emma thinks that she needs to investigate what the mayheim is all about and steps in it. Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! I let a naked Jacob run around praying that he won't pee all over the carpet while I get her pants off and wash her feet in the sick. I get Emma out and shut the door tightly to the toxic wasteland to find a naked Jacob who has climbed onto the desk and is pounding on the computer keyboard.

On to dressing Jacob, changing my clothes, redressing Emma in new pants, getting milk for Jacob to get him put down for a nap before he can do anymore damage, cleaning and scouring the first bathroom, checking the downstairs for anymore "surprise" dropping which thankfully there were none of, rinsing out soiled clothes, throwing all the yuckiness in the laundry to be washed, and finally putting Emma to sleep. Now why I feel the need to blog about such a horrible incident is beyond my sad mental state right now, but for some reason I want to remember all my days are filled with right now. This is certainly the extreme episode, but nevertheless it is my life. In further reflection little did I know that motherhood would be riddled with diapers, disasters, and discipleship. My children are schooling me in a very unique classroom on how to serve unconditionally and with love. And that is the one thing that I am proud of this day. I did all that I had to do with patience and love not looking for fault, blame, or censure. And through that discipleship of serving my children means that I am ultimately serving God (Mosiah 2:17). One small and very gross victory for today!