Because y'all, today has been one of those days. Get ready-- this has to do with poop. Feel free to click away if this isn't on your list of acceptable topics.
Our first real outing with pull ups [a library date] was a poop-tastrophe. I think I can reasonably [and not melodramatically] call it this when we spend 20 minutes of a 30 minute story time in the bathroom covered in poop. I probably should have predicted and prepared for this after Mary Bullock failed to poop this morning despite ample time and potty trips. But by the time we finally got out of the house this morning, all faculties of logic were zapped.
I'll save you all the details [actually just re-thinking the details makes me anxious, so I'm really doing myself a favor] and skip to the end, when I stripped her down, washed out her dress in the sink, and dried it under the automatic hand dryer. I wish I could say that I laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of this, but I didn't.
My mother of the year award is so, so far gone.
Dear Mary Bullock, forgive me for all of my shortcomings as your mother.
I promise to keep trying.
If you promise to try limit the poopy messes to times when Mommy has packed spare clothes.
I just said we'd try.
Deal?
Bless your heart. We also had a poop incident at the library this week...with the baby. But, you win by a long shot!
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