I used to want to be a writer. When I was in college my goal was to earn a Ph.D and write
a history book. My lofty dreams usually involved contributing some original research to and winning a place in the historiography of English history. Now what I write about is usually related to
cleaning up after kids. The book I would
write right now would have to be called, The Poop Diaries, or Tales From the
Diaper Pail, or The 12 Habits of Successful Toilet Cleaning. My life largely centers around feeding people and cleaning up, and now that I have two children with spina bifida, I spend a lot of time monitoring poop and making sure, ahem, that things come out all right. I used to say that I would offer up a toilet for anyone who needed prayers, since my mom duties make fasting difficult and I spend so much time cleaning since certain boys who live in this house have trouble with their aim. I think I need to get back to that kind of spirituality, and offer up a diaper change for anyone who I know needs prayers. It would be good to get some spiritual benefit from all this time on my knees in the bathroom.
Now that I am finding my way out of the fog of jet lag, I promise to get caught up with the pictures from the past week. I know everyone wants to see some cute pictures, and I promise not to post any of the pile of dirty diapers. We are trying to find our new normal, getting back into life with two new children added to the menagerie. Last night was a typical scene around here. I discovered a small smelly pellet on the floor, and had to organize a sniffing squad of my older children to locate the offender. I also had to find all the poopy footprints and little surprises that were in at least 4 different rooms. The offender was tracked down, which wasn't too difficult because he/she (I'm not naming names, in order to protect the guilty) smelled like a walking sewage plant. When I got closer I could hardly believe the offender stayed at large as long as he/she did. I sanitized all the floors and chairs and got everyone cleaned up and to bed. It was only 2 hours past bedtime. We may need to buy stock in whatever company makes those lysol wipes, and the one that makes liquid suppositories. I think those products are my new best friends. Now I have to get back to work. Mr. B. is entertaining the kids so I can finish cleaning the bathrooms.
