I posted yesterday that it's not St. Patty's Day until someone shits the floor. It came rushing over me once again, just how drastically life had changed since I left college. Interestingly, the poop on the floor is no longer funny. It is either angering or sad. It's always gross but I think that is just kind of a given. In college, if someone had defiled a floor THEY (or occasionally a VERY sweet family member--you know who you are!) would be cleaning it up. At this juncture in life a pile of anything on the floor symbolizes much more than it used to. When we started the day yesterday with my gal telling me that she had thrown up on her floor I should have known that I was in for it.
When I entered her room and saw the stain in question it didn't strike me as throw up. So, being the sicko that I am, I got down on all fours to further "investigate" and by investigate I mean smell. After the once over with my bloodhound skills I came to realize what exactly it was...poop! Oh joy! I really like starting the day off with a skid mark on the kid's carpet. So I scurried to get my Little Green Machine and take care of the situation wherein I was alerted that it had already been "cleaned up." I inquired as to how she cleaned it and she stated "a mackend"--translation--"napkin." So I instantly darted her into the bathroom for a hand washing as I am certain her dexterity and attention to touching said excrement most likely leave a bit to be desired. Once she was disinfected I went about my detailing of the carpet and must say that the Little Green Machine, once again, holds its weight in gold as the standard on-looker would have no physical knowledge of any previous turdery. The entire time I was cleaning this mess I was assuming that the pediatrician suggested MiraLax prescription had started working its magic and we were now in its wake.
I had nothing on the books for the day aside from getting my boss some business cards printed so we ventured out. I told the kids that if they behaved themselves at the printer that they could pick a treat. They decided on the little bag of mini Oreo cookies as their reward and we continued on to the health food store (believe me, I was given the allotted abundance of stink-eye in this establishment for allowing my children to ingest such filth.) As we finished up there the gal started looking a little green around the gills tipping me off that this was not, in fact, a MiraLax Moment but possibly something more. I ran as quickly as I could to the printer and finished up business. By the time we got back to the car she was as white as a sheet. Never in her 4 years have I seen this child look like this so I decided to step on it. I kept thinking of the little boy in her pre-school class who looked the exact same way she did only days earlier and had a feeling "it" had made its way to my girl.
When we got home the whining and whimpering had greatly increased as she lay down in the middle of the hallway on the wood floors. Very possibly the least comfortable place in the whole house. Her brother would get close and she would bark at him to get away. This dog was sick! Being that she still isn't totally over the Booty Strep she did a LOT of crying when downloading data. After a couple of episodes she finally peeled her body off of the ground and dragged herself to her bed--this all from the girl who hates sleep. I shut her door and let her rest to the tune of a 2 hour nap.
Meanwhile, I decided to take the "well" kid out back for some good times. It was sunny and the swing set was beckoning. We weren't outside 5 minutes when he gave me "the look." He came back over to where I was sitting, placed his hand on my knee and allowed me to be witness to what can only be described as the whooshing sound of a water ride at an amusement park. Seriously? Both of them? I ran upstairs to clean him up and all I can say is the sheer removal of the clothing left enough of a mess to render a load of laundry and a bath. I even had to wash his shoes! I was appalled and disgusted all at the same time.
After the boy bath the gal woke up and we all went downstairs for some more rest. Suddenly the girl realized that she had been to the toilet no less than 15 times and had not been issued a "poop treat" for a single one of those successful missions. I was truly shocked that she was even willing to look at food but I acquiesced her request with some fruit snacks. I was continuing on the Great Laundry Venture when Hubba Hubba came home and I briefed him on the current state of affairs. About 30 minutes into his presence he looked across the living room and exclaimed "Mya are you throwing up!?" Wow! NO WAY!?...Yes Way! There she was on all fours praying to the gods of synthetic fibers! I could not believe my eyes. At first all I could see was her little back hunched over and then the Hubba scooped her up to uncover what can only be described as an Oreo-Fruit Oil Spill! I could NOT believe my eyes! In all of the times I had played out this "1st" in my mind's eye, never did it look like this. I quickly put a garbage can under her chin as we ushered her into the bathroom. Of course, by the time we got to the toilet she was done and sufficiently crying. Luckily those fruit snacks weren't too far along in the digestion process so it was marked with a noted fruity deliciousness that still makes me shake my head.
We decided a shower was in order for both her and the carpet. Little Green Machine to work...again. For the next 20 minutes I sprayed, scrubbed, sucked and repeated. Again, you literally cannot tell that any shenanigans ever occurred. I swear this blog is not an advertisement for the Little Green Machine but the Hubba and I discussed sending them an additional $80 just to say "Thank you!" for saving our tails time and time again. If you have kids & carpet and don't have one of these you are missing out on a wonderful piece of serenity that I cannot put a price tag on!
After all of my cleansing I was feeling quite gamey and decided I needed a shower as well. Being that I had been elbow deep in some sort of excreta for most of the day it seemed that I, too, deserved a wash. The gal had been properly doused and was just playing so I jumped in with her. It escaped my attention that she had been in the shower the entire time that I was bathing the carpet...that is until the cold water hit. Then it came flying to the forefront of my consciousness that this was the case. Just when I thought I was going to get a moment to disengage from the day the Polar Geyser notified me of the contrary.
For the remainder of the day I followed the kids around the house either with an empty garbage can or a fresh diaper ready to combat whatever they brought to the table. Luckily neither of them were eating much at this point so things were not nearly as bad as they could have been. And in all of this ailing I was brought to the place of gratitude for my children's general health. To see them in this state for a short 24 hour trip literally made my heart ache. There was really nothing that could be done for either of them and we were all just forced to wait it out. It was impeccable the difference in personality that I saw (especially in the girl.) The boy just marched on but the girl was really down in the dumps. She was seriously a different kid. Some parents have children who have big illnesses like cancer and they are made to watch helplessly as their child lives daily life in sheer misery. I simply cannot imagine how hard that would be. I got my sassy little princess back within 24 hours. Some of these parents wait for years to see the true kid hiding beneath the sick one; to see the energy and love that their baby is capable of; to catch a glimpse of the true talents and abilities within. In this brief stint I was blessed with the awareness of my blessings. Isn't it funny how some of the crappiest experiences make us the most appreciative of what we have?
So while it wasn't the St. Patrick's Day that I remembered from college, it kind of was. A day filled with lots of time spent in the bathroom, quite a few messes to clean up, very little sleep and a day following filled with gratitude that we were all still alive. Really, the only thing missing was the catalyst...the Green Beer :)
If a man who cannot count finds a four-leaf clover, is he lucky? ~Stanislaw J. Lec
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