Monday, February 24, 2014

Letters to Samuel: There was poop in your ears

Dear Samuel,

I'm sure there will be much competing over the years between you and your brother.  I'm sure I will say, "Boys!  This is not a competition!" more than once as your mother.  There are, however, some things I would like to, you know, forbid from becoming a competition.  For instance: how big of a blow-out you can create.  While Carter has ended up with poop in his armpits, you took it up a notch this morning when I discovered your ears.

I try not to talk about poop too much on the blog, on Facebook, in general conversation.  The truth is, no one wants to chit chat about excrement, and the other truth is the aforementioned topic takes up a vast majority if my life right now.  Every now and then, I have to break my rule and tell a good terrible poop story.

I was scurrying around this morning, getting ready for a belated Valentine's party at our house.  In an hour and a half, we were expecting 5 moms and 7 littles to join us to play and exchange Valentines at our house after being twice thwarted by snow and stomach bug.  I heard the two of you chatting and laughing, so I went to tell you guys you could get up and help you get dressed.

I smelled it walking down the hall.

Boys, you were casually playing in the bed, like it was no big deal.  The smell in the room was gag-worthy, and I was the only one who seemed to be affected.  I realized immediately it was you because the stains had you surrounded.  When I got closer to assess the damage, I realized it was not just a run-of-the-mill blow-out.  The poop was up your back, down your arms, in the bottom of your hairline and in.  your.  ears.  I don't know it managed to get so many places, but it required a full strip down and washing of all the linens, pajamas, stuffed animals and blankets in the room and a bath for you and your victim brother.  All before our guests arrived.  Because the smell.  And the grossness.  And it was poop.

I'm blessed to have good friends.  Two came early and helped me set up.  Everyone stayed after and helped me clean up, putting toys away, cleaning counters, sweeping floors.  It was truly cleaner when they left than when they came.  What could have been a crazy stressful morning was a fun, encouraging one because I have new and old friends who are much more concerned about me than my house.  I didn't have to keep a guard up or cover things, but was able to just invite them right into the mess.  Our kids played, we chatted, shared hearts, exchanged Valentine's plastered with the truth of the Gospel...

and I was able to laugh at the poop freshly washed from your ears and nod understandingly when other moms said, "Sorry, we had one of those mornings."

Whew.  Me too, sister.  Me too.

So Samuel, you have the poop contest trophy.  No take-backs, best-out-of-threes, play-offs or tournaments allowed.  You win.  Forever.  Amen.


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