I’m not going to ask you to feel sorry for me, though I am not above seeking pity. But right now, I have plenty of self-pity to keep me comfort. If, however, you want to put some money in my PayPal account, I won’t stop you.
But, pity? Nah.
Ok. Maybe a little.
Jeff’s out of town. You know what that means, right? It should mean I am reading my Oprah magazines, sleeping in the middle of the bed, and eating ice cream for dinner. There are few perks to having a husband who travels, and I milk those perks every single time Jeff boards a plane.
Unfortunately, the perks this week have been scant, unless you consider human fecal matter a treat. If you do, this post may appeal to you, but generally my blog won’t be your cup of tea.
We’re only half-way through Jeff’s business trip and already I have had to unclog TWO toilets. And that was before Sadie came home from school with diarrhea. I am not a squeamish woman– I come from farm people (2 generations ago, but still). I appreciate the foul and the profane. But, when Sadie shat in her Pull-Up during dinner, I can’t say I was waving a banner of celebration.
I hosed her down. I prepared to soak her in the tub. I stripped Simon so he could join her.
“Everyone in the bath!” I endeavored to steer our little father-less ship back to calm waters. There were splashes. There were giggles of glee. I checked my complexion in the mirror– it was rosy with triumph.
“Poop! Poop! Poop!”
God, I don’t know how many times Simon said that before I tore myself away from my reflection. Maybe 50. I turned to the tub where my progeny was soaking and saw no less than 5 turds floating in the water.
“For the love of–”
“Out! Everyone out of the tub!”
I got the kids out and shooed them away– “Go jump on the bed or play on-line poker.” For my part, I stared at those turds, gently floating in the bath water. I wasn’t sure what to do with them.
“I wish Jeff was here.”
I sent him a text, hoping his affable calmness would transmit to me through the phone. Plus, I had to tell someone how awful it smelled in our house.
Outlaw Mama’s comments in blue; Outlaw Daddy’s comments in white.
Let’s just say that his text didn’t add quite as much to the situation as I hoped it would. While I applaud that he was willing to have a picture of the offending logs (that’s called being an involved parent, people), I was in no mood to Instagram Simon’s post-dinner poop. Popsicles were a nice idea, but doesn’t he know that we eat Popsicles for dinner when he’s gone? I am not running a health farm here.
As I bleached the tub and played the role of a mom who knows how to clean stuff, I couldn’t help but think: “I can’t wait until I defecate in my pants and my children have to clean it up.”
I finally got everything sanitized-ish and back to normal (which ain’t that clean, if you must know). You better believe that I did some on-line shopping that night– retail therapy, people. Nights like this were how retail therapy was invented.
Keep your turds to yourself
And from now on, Simon wears his diaper in the bath when he’s on my watch.
Does your spouse travel? Care to share your favorite perks of solo parenting?
Oh peachy. I really didn’t need this post right now. My husband leaves tomorrow for his first guys’ trip since the baby was born. It involves a race car. He’s driving it. He used to race a lot, and I was the one cheering for him. Now it just makes me nervous. I got a promise from all his friends that if he crashed and went to the big racetrack in the sky, that they’d drag his body from the car, throw it in the road, and claim he accidentally died stepping out in front of a semi since his life insurance will pay in that event.
So I’m nervous enough, and now I have to worry about fecal matter too? Thanks so much.
By the way, thank you for not posting artistic pictures of said fecal matter on Instagram.
Hope Jeff gets home soon. Did you not notice his text said “poopsicles?” Laughing!!
I didn’t even notice. OH MY GOD, he’s a genuis and not getting full credit. Girl, I give you so much credit for letting your hubby have this passion/joy with racing. It would scare the bejesus out of me. YOu are stronger than I am. I am so happy your kids of your back. I can’t wait to hear how it goes.
oh crap. literally.
my hubs rarely gets home before Lovie’s bedtime… THREE TIMES she’s shit in the tub. THREE DAMN TIMES. i did NOT grow up on a farm so i can’t handle it.
Three times? Put a diaper in it!
Last time Sass Monkey shat the tub, it was so manly it clogged the tub drain… I had to break it up with the plunger….
Right??? I had the plunger too. Now I can hardly look at the tub without gagging.
OMG. I’m speechless. Almost. That was damn funny…at least you got a good blog out of it.
I am still sad I missed that Jeff was making a funny joke about poopsicles. I have no sense of humor when holding a plunger. Poor guy.
Haha! ‘Poopisicles’ at my house are frozen ice cube portions of pureed prunes.
My tot has never pooped in the tub…yet…but her poops in the jumperoo (aka pooperoo) are legendary.
I will admit that pooping in a jumper or the stroller is worse. At least my bathtub has a working drain.
Glad I’m not the only with kids that do this. Mara did this around Simon’s age, while I was in the tub with her. Totally gross. Then she did it every bath for a few months. Needless to say, I just stopped bathing her.
Well if those turds fall out of his diaper, I am officially done with bathing. I am glad I wasn’t in the bath. Good lord, the indignities.
Oh so funny! I remember the first time Ava pooped in the tub. I f-ing flipped out and Mike still makes fun of me. (And, yes, my kid will be talking to her therapist some day in the future about her Mom’s issues with poop. I can live with that!)
I bleached my way back to calm that night, but didn’t even think of retail therapy at that point. Is it too late now? I’m still feeling traumatized …
Oh man, I just laughed out loud in public – I’m laughing with you, not at you, I promise. It was the line about palying the role of a mom who knows how to clean stuff that I loved! I have been in a similar situation with, shall we say, unwanted visitors in the tub and I remember thinking “dude, do I seriously have to scrub the tub now? Like with bleach and everything??” It seemed like such cruel and unusual punishment!
Good luck to you – hope the days get better!
The only way is up!
hahahahahahahahaha! hope hubbie’s home soon.
3 hours and 12 minutes.
He said poopsicles, hahaha! Jeff’s a genius! We never had a doodie bar in the tub, luckily. But body fluids got just about everywhere else. Since my youngest is 8, those memories are thankfully fading away!
Nice to know they fade! Thank god.
You make me laugh every post, honestly. My kids are raised now but you remind me of the chaos. My husband used to travel one week out of every five or so. We pretty much kept on trucking as per usual, although we often went out to eat at least one night. Just getting out of the house and not having to cook was a perk. But the little buggers got sick or injured almost every time; it almost became a joke! we still talk about it.
Thank you for this laugh. I so needed it today and you delivered big time. I’d rather have pictures of your purchases than the poop. Care to share?
Yes. I will. They haven’t arrived but they are purrrrrrty.
okay..I laughed through your whole hysterical recounting of events… but “Simon wears diapers in the bath when he’s on my watch”…ZOMG…now I can’t stop. That’s just the funniest thing I’ve read all day.
You have also given me a new standard. As long as I’m not having to deal with feces the next time my husband is out of town, I will consider myself doing better than average. (and since my kids are 12 and 9….if I am dealing with it, I’ve likely got some serious problems going on)
Your comment is the funniest I’ve read all day! Bath poop is not my friend. Please blog if your kids poop on you. Or call 911.
On the bright side, they were solid. Farm people. Heh. We’re moving and so we had to get rid of the chickens, rabbits and goats. The dogs and mouse are still here, but they’re on notice to behave–or else. My days are less excrement-filled for the first time in nearly 2 years of “farm people” life in the most horrid home since Amityville.
Poo tubs. Yes. We can relate. You have our sympathies.
Glad your poop sitchy is upgraded these days. I swore I would never blog about poop. Such a liar.
Oh, its a poop competition!! We are at the age that we only talk about poop, so I love this! Yes, way back we did the poop in the tub thing, no big dea–just pull them out and shower ‘em of-nothing compared AT ALL with the poopie parties the girls (twins) would have during their nap time. Yes, all over the 2 cribs, 2 crib sheets and 2 walls while my husband was out of town on EACH occasion? Yes, it happened more than once! Do I win something?
Yes, you do get something but I’m not sure what. I gotta think of something good. And pooping twins? Omg. That’s intense.
Chief travels and it never fails that something goes horribly wrong when he’s out of town; air conditioner going out in record-breaking heat wave, microwave dying with the sound of Three Mile Island nuclear explosion, the dog getting into something poisonous that required a trip to animal ER AND the vet threatening to call animal services on me because I had absolutely NO CLUE what he could have gotten into.
But I do believe “pooper-scooping” your child’s bath water takes the cake!
We too always joke about why the shit hits the fan when hubs goes away. Now we mean that literally!
You’re an amazing parent/mom! What you encounter in your everyday life . . . is not for the weak. It’s hilarious to read about . . . albeit much less so when you’re the one who has to deal with the mess. Bless you for making sure you got some self care afterwards. Shopping does wonders! xo
I ordered 3 books which is sort of lame but it helped in that superficial way that shopping helps.
This is why the only women who take baths have no children.
So true.
Whoa, whoa whoa!! Taking baths is one of the few joys I have left in life. It never occurred to me that my kids would do anything so diabolical. Is it related to potty training? Because I’m planning to start with the 2.5 year old in December/January and there is no way in hell she’s ever bathing in the master bedroom tub again if she pulls something like this.
To be on safe side, let’s keep her out of your beloved tub. Bright side: blog about it when it happens.
I don’t know how I missed this post…
My twins torture us. There is tub poop every week, I swear. I blogged about it here: http://stlukescrblogs.com/realmomsofeasterniowa/2012/10/15/this-ones-in-the-toilet/
And Scott is headed out of town on Thursday (provided that western Virginia still exists) for four days. I’m sure tub poop will happen, but as traumatic as that is, I’m more sure that I’m going to be one of the walking dead as the twins are refusing to sleep. I was up four times every night this week…
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