A Sh*tty Morning

Saturday morning…

I shoved my foot in my shoe. “I really appreciate all your help this morning,” I said to Brad with a chuckle (Yes, I chuckled. It was for the sarcasm). “We make a great team.”

“I was sleeping,” he said.

***

It was a shitty morning, literally. My alarm went off and I hit the snooze button. The babies started crying in the other room. I wish they had a snooze button. I had already given them their bottles and there was nothing else to buy me ten more minutes in bed. So I dragged my butt out of bed.

I could smell it as soon as I walked into the hallway. It was so bad I was afraid to go in. I opened the door; Mallie was hanging on to the crib rails with red eyes from crying. She had brown smears on her cheeks. Her hands were covered in brown goo, and it wasn’t chocolate. Yes, my friends, it was poo.

“Oh crap!”

Collin stood next to her. “Ewww, Mum,” he held up his hand and was studying his fingers. He was covered in poo, too. He stood there with a bare butt and a diaper at his feet.

“I know, sweetie. Just don’t touch anything else. Stand still,” I said, trying to buy some time.

Elsie sat behind them. She was laughing and crying. She was covered in it also, but not as bad as the other two.

“Awww, shit,” I muttered to myself while simultaneously thinking, How am I going to get this all cleaned up?

I wish I could have seen the look on my face when I entered the room. My eyes must have been bulging and big as round as a toilet stool, which I wished the poo was in.

I ran downstairs. Brad was asleep on the couch.

“Wake up! There is shit everywhere,” I said. You could hear the kids fussing upstairs.

“I’m sleeping,” he mumbled and tried to roll over.

Nag mode set in.

“Brad, c’mon! Get up and help me. There are 3 kids up there in the crib covered in head to toe shit! Let’s double team this and get them in the tub.”

“You should have got up earlier,” he said.

Really?! You’re gonna blame me?

“You could have got up, too,” I bitched as I headed upstairs.

I looked at the clock. 6:55 a.m.

“I can’t be late for work,” I yelled over my shoulder. “And I still have to get in the shower.”

There was no time to waste. I wasn’t sure how I was going to conquer this mess, so I just dove in.

I grabbed Mallie first because she had the most crap on her. I reached for a blanket and stripped her down. There was poop on my arm. Ugh! I know I’m not going to stay clean with this job.

First off, get the crap off her face, so disgusting. And the only thing I kept worrying about is e-coli and whatever else a horrible mess like this might bring. I scrubbed hands, fingernails, toes, and everything in between.

The water was running, I didn’t want to wash her with shitty bath water, so I just let the water run and go down the drain. She was still crying and mad. She looked up at me with those big blue eyes with red rings around them and a little tear.

Finally I remembered this was probably scary for her; your mom races in, yanks you out of bed and throws you in the tub first thing in the morning.

“It’s okay, baby,” I say to her, remembering I should talk to her and sooth her. It’s not like rushing to get the dishes done, for crying out loud.

I can still hear Collin in the room, “Mum. Mum. Ewww, Mum. Ewww.”

I wrapped Mallie in a towel and delivered her to her dad. “I have two more to go,” I said and ran back upstairs. I guess I had given up on him coming upstairs to help. The least he could do is take care of them after I clean ’em up.

Elsie next. The smell was so gross. Washing off caked and smeared on poop that is starting to dry is one of the hardest thing to get clean, as most moms know, because a mess like this usually happens at least once during the baby stages… and moms always seem to get the dirty jobs. Oh, well. We get the best jobs, too, like carrying them, nursing them…

I ran the game plan in my head over and over again at a hundred miles an hour. Collin next, clean the crib. Where’s the disinfectant? Rinse the clothes, stain stick and get them in the washer. Throw me in the shower. I’ll probably have to re-stainstick the clothes when I get home.

I wrapped Elsie in a towel, tucked her under my arm like a football, and ran downstairs for the pass. Brad was still laying on the couch with Mallie in a towel. Really?! I hope she pees on you, I thought.

“C’mon! Here’s the other one. Just help me!” I stood there dumbfounded, looking for an open spot in his arms to tuck her in and take off. I’m in a hurry here.

“I can’t hold them both,” he said.

“All you have to do is get them dressed!” I sat Elsie on the floor and ran back upstairs for the next poopy monster.

Just let me get this done!

I felt guilty for leaving Elsie on the floor crying. But I had another covered in shit upstairs, and besides, her dad was right there.

Priorities. Get the shit cleaned up first. I ran to get Collin clean.

“Arms up,” I flipped the shirt up over his head.

“Eww, Mum. Eww,” is all Collin could say.

 I pictured the clock in my head, must be at least 7:20. I just may make it to work on time. I was getting good at this…and super fast. I threw Collin in the tub and scrubbed.

Ugh! How did all of this happen? What a shitty morning.

I am assuming sometime after I made the twins’ bottles Collin got up and snuck quietly out of his room. I can tell by the path of destruction that he was at the bookshelf, I had to step over “The Joy Luck Club” and an old Stephen King paperback when I was in the hallway. Then he must have went into the girls’ room and decided to hop in the crib and play with them. He was probably jumping in the crib, which he gets in trouble for… even though it is funny because the girls bounce around and laugh their pretty little heads off. I’m assuming that when he was jumping with a full morning diaper that it  was so heavy it just fell off.

The rest is the mess from there.

I made it to work on time…with a few minutes to spare!

Damn, I’m good. And it’s a good thing they are so darn cute!

Even though it is darn near impossible to get a good picture of all of them together. Next time I will bribe them with marshmallows.

xxx

p.s. See what motherhood does to you? I can write a whole blog post about cleaning up shit. I really need to get out a little bit.

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