Poop Grenade

It happened a couple of months ago.

15 minutes. That's how much longer I wanted to luxuriate in bed before I haul myself up to address the banging and shrieks of glee coming from my girls' shared room during naptime. Steeling myself for whatever I would find when I got in there, because I know there will be a mess, I whisper a prayer, "Please Jesus! Help me to be calm and in control when I see what's in that room."

I slowly walk down the hall and I know they hear my footsteps because I hear Rory say, "Uh oh!" Something MUST be wrong.

I stand in the open doorway, mouth ajar, gazing on both of my daughters who are stripped to their birthday suits like naked natives (wait, Rory still has a shirt on). Their bed covers are scattered in piles around the room, their diapers are off and in a corner and there are suspicious piles of liquid pooling on the hardwood floor. But what drew my fearful ire was the site of not one, but TWO toddler turds on the floor in different locations. I shrieked and stepped into the room like it was mined. "Shannon!" I said in a deliberately tense whisper, "Hand...Mommy...the diapers!"  She picked up both turds, in her chubby little hands and dropped them in the diapers. I grimaced and then sighed with relief as if she had put the pins back in both grenades and surrendered.

I had to triage the situation. Clean the kids up in the shower with an initial dee-pooping rinse followed by a double scrub and rinse, followed by a moisturizer, check. Redress children and put them in their highchairs watching kid-friendly YouTube videos, check. Head back to the scene of the crime. Strip everything that can be washed (deciding what was needed for bedtime) and took it downstairs to be laundered. Then I attacked the mess with my paper towels, Little Green Cleaning Machine, and my Windex and cleaned up their room. Lastly, I remade the beds and came down to cook dinner.

I feel like I earned another mommy merit badge that day. I pinned it right next to my Stomach Bug Survivor Badge.

Two Down, One with Croup

Mothers everywhere, scientifically prove everyday that people do not need sleep to survive...as long as we have a steady supply of caffeine. I try and stay away from Ritalin.

Perhaps, we shouldn't operate heavy machinery, you know, cars and the like, but we can keep our offspring alive, and do our jobs, on a daily basis, with little or no shut-eye. I haven't done any crazy, sleep-deprived things to date, but I've come close and I know some of you have...feel free to share. Cereal in the fridge and milk in the cupboard? Ever pour OJ on your cereal? They're always funny!

I am revisiting my days as a new mom...those with little to no sleep.  My girls got bad colds this month and poor Shannie has croup. Oh the awfulness of not being able to make my baby well! The middle of the night (throughout the night) coughing fits, tears, and the red cheeks...poor, sick kiddo. It's scary, choking on phlegm and not being able to breathe. Shannie O'Shannahan is on Prednisolone (spelling) to reduce the inflammation in her chest so she stops barking when she coughs. I alternate between sitting in the bathroom on the toilet with her on my lap wrapped in a blanket while the steamy shower loosens the phlegm in her chest and then taking her outside, bundled up in a blanket so she can breathe the cold air. Both are treatments for the crazy coughing fits.

And even though this has been going on for over a week, I foolishly stay up too late, often for the sake of being alone and not in charge of anyone but myself. Unfortunately, the next day, I don't have enough energy to be nice to my sick kids. I become a T-Rex momma over the tiniest transgressions. If only I would follow that good advice and go to bed early. But I LOVE my alone time.

-T-Rex