No I did not forget about my poop story. I just haven’t had the time to write. And now I look at the clock and realize that I still don’t have the time because I have to do the nightly ritual of cuddling with the boy child for a half hour and then putting him to bed. It starts at 8 o’clock and it is now that time. So please hold while I get my boy ready for bed. And then…the poop talk BEGINS!
You know what’s not “magical” about having kids? Potty training. I HATE POTTY TRAINING! There’s nothing more un-magical than cleaning poop out of underwear. And you know what’s even worse? When you think someone else has cleaned up the poop only to find a pair of little boy underwear in the sink of the bathroom with a surprise inside! I hated Jesse that day. I really did. And then he did something even better to me. After AFTER I had cleaned out the turd in the underwear that I thought he did, Oscar again pooped, this time outside. Jesse saw it first and said “oohh Randa, not it!” and I said to myself, “NOT IT?! NOT IT?! I CLEANED OUT THE TURDY UNDERWEAR NOT IT! YOU F-ING PIECE OF DOG CRAP!!!” I told you my anger was really really bad last week right? That kind of thought was going through my head a lot last week. Full of hate and anger, and chose not to talk like that to him and wipe quietly all while cursing his very existence. I have also had to clean up poop streaks from my bed. Oh not just my bed but my PILLOW. Yes my child put his poopy butt on my pillow. And yet people keep asking my “are you going to have another?” NEVER!! Oh, oh and now, he’s decided he’s a dog which apparently entitles him to pee on the real dog’s bed! I love my boy. I love my boy. I love my boy. Oh wait, I forgot one. That angry day? Well it culminated with Oscar pooping in the tub. And that time yes I did yell. I did. I was getting Oscar out of the tub because Jesse was just sitting on his ass on the couch and not doing anything and thinking…”He was sitting in poopy water, Jesse’s not doing anything, I have to clean this shit up.” So I yell…” WILL YOU PLEASE COME PUT THIS KID IN THE SHOWER SO I CAN CLEAN THIS FUCKING SHIT UP!?! PLEASE!” And then finally he says “Do you want me to clean it? You seem kinda pissed..” “DUDE I WILL FUCKING CUT YOU RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD.” (That last one was in my head.) “NO I will get this, just get him in the shower to clean off the shit please.” And did he put him in the shower and actually clean him? NO, no he didn’t he got him in there and that was it, didn’t spray him down, I think he just turned on the water and Oscar protested so he didn’t get him in there. Awesome. I’m not the biggest germophobe in the world but I know that when your kid is swimming in shit for a minute that maybe it might be a good idea to actually clean him.
So there, not so bad was it? I have gotten over my angry I think. I’m still getting slightly annoyed by silly little things that shouldn’t annoy me, but still getting better as it goes.
Next time…My Mormon nephew and how I doubt he’ll make it through a mission…unless they’ve changed the rules to let him listen to gansta rap…or if they’ve converted him so well that he doesn’t listen to that stuff anymore.