Ash and Poop
October 25, 2007
We kicked off a crazy week by watching our Southern California paradisiacal weather go awry from all the fires. When we got out of church Sunday, the sky was orange, the wind hot and dry, and ash was flying everywhere.
The following Monday, I did spend a good hour and a half sweeping and hosing down our carport and patio because you shouldn’t have to wear a face-mask just to get from your front door to your car. After a long morning at an indoor play area in Camarillo, I thought for sure Kai would go down for his usual nap like a rock, giving me time to clean up the outside. So it was strange when I finally went back inside, I heard him playing with toys (or making a mess, whatever).
When I opened his door, I found my dear son…bless his little heart…holding out his very poopy diaper to me. And his room, oh his room. There was Kai poop. Everywhere. Smeared on his crib, on the bedding, some on the carpet, chunks everywhere… Even poor Moosey-Monkey was a casualty of the feces onslaught.
So, I lost it enough to evoke some alternate personality, because instead of falling into a useless, crying mess of a pregnant woman on Kai’s bedroom floor, I channeled the Martha Stewart in me, zoned out the world, and got to work cleaning up the mess. And that was that. A story I can one day laugh about once I get over the trauma.
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