Where the blogging begins.... Aka the Poop story

So the post that made me decide to start chronicling our crazy cooped up life.

I've made a couple mistakes in my life but today was the big one. People read about this on the internet but they don't think it can happen to them. Let me tell you it can, it just happened to me.

It all begins on this rainy Monday morning. My 5 month old awful sleeper kept me up again last night along with a pulled muscle in my neck. The almost 3 year old, Cooper, crawled into the already crowded bed at 6 am after a coughing fit and thus begins the day. We get him on the potty, which we've been having great success recently after months of fighting the toilet. Coopers breakfast happens, a simple SAHM (Stay at home mom) breakfast consisting of a toasted (not too light, not too dark) eggo waffle, orange juice and a bowl of dry cheerios. Classic breakfast.

Several hours go by and I go to feed baby Parker in my bed, hoping he'll fall asleep. Success! The non napping baby is asleep. This is where my mistake happens. With Paw patrol singing in the background, all the food cupboards locked (because Mr. Cooper will help himself to everything) and the stairs blocked off this sleep deprived and sick with a cold mom fell into a light comatose state.

Luckily, my phone woke me up 30 minutes later. I've never been so happy and yet so sad to receive an appointment reminder. I hear the sounds of Cooper in the bathroom and slowly get out of bed to see what he's doing.

As I round the corner into the bathroom my nose is met with the smell of dippety doo hair gel and..... Shit. I look at my toddler and he's putting the bottle of gel back into the drawer while quickly wiping his face as if that would hide the mess. From the corner of my eye I see poop in the toilet and on the seat and for a moment I am relieved. Is the shit I'm smelling only coming from the toilet? I take a step forward only to realize that I've stepped in something.

I pray, "Lord, please let that be hair gel". I lift my foot to see that it is in fact not gel. My toddler moves and I start to see the carnage. "I'm sorry mommy, it will not happen again." He repeats over and over. I pick him up, strip off his clothes and start the water on the shower.

I grab the container of bleach wipes and get to work. Picking up shredded pieces of used toilet paper, clearly, his sticky hands were not a good match for the paper. After wiping down every surface of that bathroom (most of which was touched) I decide to go grab the mop. I was impressed with myself. What an easy cleanup for such a disgusting mess.

And then I saw it.... The bathroom was not the original scene of the crime. The kitchen floor was trailed in poop footprints, including a large circular area of what I'm calling ground zero. As I make my way into the dining area, I'm met at the table with a mushed up banana all over the table, under the table and on the seat. Thinking for a moment that luckily it's just banana and maybe the footprints are banana also. My smile vanishes quickly as I see poop also rubbed onto my chalk painted white kitchen chair. Gagging I follow more footsteps into the living room where I notice the seat cushion had been moved. Don't worry, I tell myself, it's just urine. As if that's an amazing consolation prize in this situation. As I strip the covers off half the sectional my eye picks up on something over by the fireplace. What is that I gasp! Banana/poop hand prints cover the ikea road rug and the mantel, trailing until they reach the TV. "Oh, my F****** God."

The gagging continues as I make my way back to the showering toddler, when I'm stopped at the kitchen counter to see more poop. I didn't think this was even possible. How much poop can a 3 year old have?

I wash his hair and face as he screams bloody murder, "I don't want soap in my eyes". I mutter under my breathe that I don't want poop on my TV but he doesn't care. He's already focused on playing. I stick him into his room, so I can finish cleaning up the scene from poopageddon. He has the audacity to ask to watch TV in my bed then cries himself to sleep. He never naps anymore and yet he's asleep just after one. Maybe my prayers are finally being answered or maybe the literal shit storm tired him out.

Two hours later everything and more is bleached twice, while a citrus fragrance comes out of my diffuser mixing with the smell of poop and bleach. Shitrus. A lovely scent.

So if you're having a bad day or your toddler is causing you some grief just think of me and 'The Pooping Dead' scene that was just my house.

P.S.
I'm on my second glass of wine before 5.
This my fellow mamas is why I drink.

-The Cooped Up Mom