Knee Deep In It!

(Sorry, no picture…. this is a family website!)

By the title, you might think I’m talking about the snow… But I’m not, UNFORTUNATELY.  What then?  I could say I’m up to my elbows in it.  THAT might be closer to accurate.  Still not getting it?  OK, last hint… How about the thunder and lightning that accompanied the other night’s Nor’easter? Did it ruffle your feathers?  Stand the hair on your neck?  Well, let’s just say it scared the sh!&$! out of my dog.  Catch my drift?  No, not the snow drift… My drift is about the sh!&$! not hitting the fan… but hitting the floor in my living room… with an unbelievably HUGE splat!  TMI, you say?  Wait!  I haven’t even gotten started.

I woke up in the wee hours this morning.  Actually, I was rudely awakened by the sound of a strange man’s voice in my kitchen downstairs.  The superintendent of schools talking to my answering machine and telling me to “stay home and read a book!”  (As IF!)  Yay!  A SNOW DAY!!!!! As a kid AND, still, as a Mom, I LOVE a snow day… But not so much this one!

So there I was, lounging, feet up in the pre-dawn darkness, tapping away on my work laptop, hoping to get “it” done before the kids woke up.  (SOOOO did not happen, but at that point, this girl was still hopeful.)  After awhile, the kids stirred, woke, and came down one-by-one to happily disturb my peace.  The Old Soul sat beside me with a book about wild cats and the Dynamic Duo went to the Living Room to play, presumably, with the Diego Railway and Treehouse that I’d boxed but neglected to stow away last night.  Sadly, my instincts were NOT quite on target!  Less than 3 minutes passed before My Little Man came limping into the great room awkwardly unbalanced on one foot and the heel of the other, trying desperately to avoid putting his toes down. (Facts that should AUTOMATICALLY and rightfully make you go hmmmmm!)  The Old Soul screamed… which is what ultimately dragged my focus away from The Strategic Partnering of Argo and some Joisy-based orthopedic company to bring the ReWalker to clinical trials (a necessary precursor to making it available to those who sadly find themselves paraplegic).  And, there at the tip of his toes, and the base of his toes, and in between his toes, and pretty much all over his toes was the most yucky rusty-brown colored… diarrhea.  Disgusting!!!  I didn’t think the Old Soul could move so fast when he lifted his foot to show her.

Given The Boys’ extraordinary dairy sensitivities lately, my first thought was an “overnight” blow-out. But I could see from the, let’s call it “pattern” of the mess, it didn’t come from within.  Before I could toss my laptop aside and precariously carry my 57-lb Little Man to the shower for a spray-down — without letting his foot touch me or anything else — The Big Man came in stinkin’ like a dog-run in the dead of summer… That is to say… NOT GOOD!

“Cleaned”– relatively speaking — I sat My 2 Little, wet-footed Stinkers down in front of the TV and popped in Harry and The Hendersons (still deeply entrenched in their love affair with Big Foot).  I took a deep breath and a roll of paper towels and, wiping dirty little footprints as I went, followed the tracks through the house into the living room. Fully 1/3 of the rug was splattered with poop and footprints with a few obvious slips and slides that, thankfully, didn’t end in a fall.  At least I had THAT going for me.  I dumped water here and there and excessively doused the heart of the “spill” then covered it with paper towels, blocking the bulk of the waste-site with the garbage can sitting in the middle of the room as if waiting patiently to receive the ugly mess. 

I sternly warned my pack of kids to steer clear of the living room and went back to my laptop… I had a deadline!  Breakfast be da*ned (fill in an r or an m, your choice) for now, I gave them all big cups of juice and redoubled my efforts to “finish” my work quickly.

With the Old Soul begging to go out and snowboard on the little hill in our front yard, I took a quick break to shovel up the snow into a faux “peak” and pat down the base for her to ride… figuring if she was busy, there’d be more peace for me to work in.  However, as I went above and beyond my motherly duties — grooming the lawn for boarding — I heard an ethereal scream emanating from the house… the Old Soul has a Hollywood-worthy scream.  In a full-out run I tossed the snow shovel and flung the front door open only to find that the “emergency” was about The Big Man letting one (read: a bowel movement) loose all over the bathroom… Having valiantly tried, but miserably failing to make it to the throne in time, he stood bottom-neked and M E S S Y!!! saying, “Rorry!” Yes, good try! Apology accepted.  Before tackling this latest mess, I quickly scoured the tub, ran a warm bath and dumped the dirty little Big Man in; then chased down the Little Man and had him join his brother.   Having JUST mopped (literally) my living room rug, most of the supplies were already on hand so I gathered them up and attacked the bathroom, spending The Boys’ entire bathtime on my hands and knees scrubbing poop off the bathroom tiles and, most especially, the once-white grout! 

Bath finished…  Boys clean…  Old Soul back in the house in one piece…  I went to the great room to find and refill The Boy’s juice cups as the fear of diarrhea-driven dehydration crept into my brain.  I found my freshly minted Boys contrasted against the wreckage of a room sabotaged by the stay-at-home children of a work-at-home Mom’s neglect.  Suddenly I spied a newly empty cup laying on the rug in a massive puddle of apple juice.  Half a roll of paper towels and a bottle of Resolve later, I was finally breathing normally again. 

In what seemed to me barely enough time to stow the cleansers and cleaning supplies, the Sarge came home to the appearance of a peaceful and quiet home.  As I regaled him with the adventures of the day and he put his feet up to rest after a hard day on the streets of New York, he accidentally kicked over his cup of 7-11 coffee.  As, the strong scent and dark hue of coffee soaked into my favorite rug, I threw my hands in the air, covered my face, and after a few seconds of negotiating with my emotions, I began to laugh….

Otherwise, I’d have cried. 

Seriously… Somewhere in the universe, somebody had me in their cross-hairs.


About Maggie

I'm a stay-at-home mother of 3 children including a 15-year-old daughter, the Old Soul, and 11-year-old identical twin boys who've been blessed with an extra 21st chromosome (aka: Down Syndrome). I happily spend my time doing all that I can do -- breaking the proverbial box wide open -- to foster my children's development and then sharing what I learn with you through this blog.
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2 Responses to Knee Deep In It!

  1. maggie says:

    good lord….you certainty handled it better than i would have i think!

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