Thankful for the poop

It has been another holiday from the blog. Sorry, I think that is my trend.

Anyway, a couple days after " The Great Poopy War" my husband and kids were in a car accident.

A terrible, horrible, no good , very bad day. The car is gone- but the family is intact. Simply put.

We are so very grateful for the safety God has wrapped them in, to say the least.

Obama is CRAZY- ( sorry for the sidebar- but the debate is in the background)

So amongst the loose ends is finding a car with the piddly monies the insurance gives one when a car is a total loss.

I should be researching MORE on the internet right now- but I found this absolutley fascinating crockpot blog. I spent a good amount of time there. That led me to looking on ebay for an Equi Flow food dehydrator on the whim that I would make a load of fruit leather. What?

I know I am nuts. I had a food dehydrator and NEVER used it- wait- once in college we tried to make craisins and it did not work- not at all.

So anyhow- I have to go to Walmart to buy a shower card. For a baby shower. My life is exciting.

Have you ever wanted to run away?

If you have ever been a parent of toddlers, you have probably had a day like mine was yesterday.
A day that goes great, in which you are so stinkin' proud of yourself because you tackled so much with two screaming kids.
One that you managed to clean in between breaking up playdoh fights and even cook a dinner fit enough to invite a guest... so you do invite that guest.
Then whilst you are enjoying your guest ,pridefully doing dishes and actually cleaning up after dinner for once, you hear your precious children giggling and whooping it up and you think, " Dang, I have it together!"

Until one of those precious blessings says through hysterical laughter, " There is poop in the bathtub!"
And you see him running through your clean house with said poop on his legs, feet... everywhere.
Did I mention he was naked? But the sweet baby was fully clothed, standing in the poop filled bathtub and swathed with toilet paper.

Once I assessed the situation, I caught the running poop-mobile, threw him in the tub, took out the baby and stripped her down. I asked my guest to monitor her whilst I began to decontaminate the hallway, bathroom floor and child.
I am thinking that the situation is beginning to get under control and starting to think it was funny until two things... One- poop covered kid begins to touch his MOUTH! EW!
and two- guest reports that sweet baby pooped on my couch!
I seriously almost waltzed straight out the door. My couch! The one that was only one day ago scrubbed and shampooed and freed of its peed-on state.

Lesson- do not have nice things until kids are 30. Note to self- buy extra rubber gloves.