The day started off well enough. I had my cup of coffee. I had my plans for the day in order. I think that should have been my first clue.

When my ducks are in a row and things are looking easy Murphy (who is this Murphy) decides to drop by unannounced. I mean really, the least he could do is call ahead first.

I had planned to make a quick run to the quilt shop to buy a bit more of the main fabric (totally love it) for a quilt top I’m working on. I was going to take the two younger boys with me and gave the older three the choice: stay here and do your school work or bring some reading material in the car to get out of the house for a bit. Everyone chose to ride along. Planning this trip early enough for the thirty minute driver over, a quick few minutes in the shop, and the thirty minute drive back home would not only get us home in plenty of time for Lottie’s school to be out, but would even have us home for lunch.

Just as I was grabbing the bolt of fabric off the shelf to tell them how much to cut Mr. Iaindescribable walked in to tell me [Read more...]

I was over at VeryMom (now Kerflop) and she has a very funny post about children and the loveliness of poop and potty training today. It got me thinking about one of the worst/hardest days of my life as a mother. It’s something about having three children. Once that is ‘under control’ anything is possible.:

Now, about the poop – the hardest day of motherhood I have ever had was when number three (a preemie) was a few months old (I think four months) and I was still recovering from a weeks worth extremely high fever (105) from the flu and the wee baby child had Rota-virus and had just herself recently gotten over RSV. As I was nursing her she let loose, well, her bowels let loose. Yes, to all you who have children who have breastfed know that breast milk explosions often happen while nursing (right before or immediately after) and those explosions can be big, but let’s mix in a little Rota-virus and see how much bigger the explosion can be, shall we? OK, so now we go from the smell that I refer to as ButterButt (breast milk poop, it has a sweet creamy smell although stinky, or is it just me?) to that of something so foul I have only smelled during my years working at a veterinarians office and tending to small puppies who have Parvo (and sadly enough it is very similar to the smell of death, really). Oh, the smell, and the sounds of a screaming baby being taken off the breast for a cleaning because THAT time I wasn’t finishing that nursing session until I was clean.

Oh, yeah, the baby too.

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