Well here it is, the beginning of what will surely be, one of my greatest works: A blog about Poop. These adventures are the reason I have gray hairs sprouting on my head, wrinkles on my forehead, and the ever extending laugh lines on my cheeks. These stories are the ones that I pass on to you, my readers. All my inspiration and experience comes from my 3 kids, Jade Marie (10), Eleanore Leigh (4) and my S.U.N, Wyatt Clyde (18 months).

I guarantee that I will use foul language in this blog, (who doesn't when we talk about the silly shit our kids do??) so if you're easily offended, you can put your finger on the screen and miraculously skip over my curse words. They're only verbs right?

These are the Poop Chronicles, for your laughing pleasure my friends and family...

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Oceans and Pools

You'd think with a fully potty trained 3 year old, things couldn't get too bad around our house. I was wrong. Ohhh LAWD! I was wrong. We've crossed over the threshold, made it to the finish line, and now have entered new teritory that I am super unfamiliar with. Let's face it: kids are gross. (I'm almost positive I say that in every post, but its so painfully TRUE!) I think many of us parents have sat, awestruck and dumbfounded, as events have unraveled right in front of our very eyes. I know I have. I've sat there, in my chair, questioning reality, and thought: Is this really happening to me right now?

Example:

Every year for the last 15 years, I have gone to the same beach to camp with my family. The stairs at South Carlsbad can be brutal. There's about 250 of them to get to the beach (I think it's 5-6 flights, maybe more). If you forget something in your campsite, you are cursing every step going back up to the campgrounds. If you have to poop...you're cursing outloud AND running up the stairs.

This year was especially hard for me because Tim had to work almost the entire time we were there. Try toting a 10 month old brick baby on your hip going up and down those bad-boy stairs. Work Out! Add in a whiney 3 year old and a pre-teen 10 year old and whew! You would just LOVE walking a day in my shoes! :)

I asked the girls if they had to go to the bathroom before going down to the beach. In fact, I made them go, even if they didn't have to. That eventually leads to a tantrum of NOT wanting to go..."Because I don't HAVE to GOOOOO right now MOMMY!!!" Ahhh Ellie and her stomping feet tantrums. I pink-fuzzy-heart those moments.

Anyhooo, we're down at the beach on the first day, and of COURSE, 20 minutes after we get down there (I've finally got Mr. W down for a nap) Ellie has to pee. I do not want to go up the stairs for just pee. When I say she has to pee, I mean PEE. She's doing this dance on her tippy toes, spinning in circles, holding her "giiiina"  and yelling at me, "I NEED TO GO POTTY MOMMYYYY!!!!" There's no fucking way we're making it up 250 + stairs and getting to the bathroom on time. So I tell her, "Ellie, just go in the ocean, it will be ok." She gave me this look like I had just told her the dumbest joke on the planet. So I take her hand and lead her out to the water and say, "It will be fine, I'll go with you." So we're out there in the water, jumping over waves, and I tell her, "Elle, just stand in the water and go pee-pee, no one is going to watch you." Well she makes it totally OBVIOUS!!! And Im trying to correct her and just tell her to stand up, but noooo, she wants to sit like she's on a toilet, so she LOOKS like she is definitely peeing in the ocean. Grrrreeeat. Luckily, my family is the first one down to the beach so its just us, and they don't care or judge me as a lazy mother. :)

So 4 days of peeing in the ocean water gets me this: We drive to the Ramada Hotel across the street where my Grandma, Aunt & Uncle, 2 cousins and my Mom are staying for the week in stead of at the campsite...and we are going to take a break from the sand (THANK YOU!!!!) and go in the nice cool pool. Excellent. We're sitting poolside and Ellie comes up to me... dancing..."Mommy I gotta go potty really bad." Ok! I bolt up and am about to take her hand and she says, "Oh WAIT!!! I know!" ...Runs, jumps into the spa next to this old man relaxing, squats, and pees. Dude is looking at me like I am a freak of nature baby killer and all I can do (red faced and cursing my stupidness for not explaining to Ellie that we do NOT pee in the pool) is smile.

Can you say Mortified?
I can even spell it:
E-L-L-I-E.
mortified

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