Poop Rant

(WARNING to Christie: This blog is gross, as is a solid 97% of all my posts..... my whole life is gross.)


Poop. Everywhere.

That's how I began my day. Crusted poop clinging to the inside of my baby's sleep-sack.
I unzipped it and opened it up to free my infant and was assaulted with the scent of sin.

This is the same face T-Bag was making as I assessed the situation: 

So we meet again Poop.......

I looked that poop right in the eye and cursed it's existence.
I fought tears and frustration as I cleaned baby Tyler up for the 565853th time.

I realize that a write about poop more than your average blogger, but my intense hatred of all things poop deserves a platform.

I have to mentally prepare myself every time I change a diaper. I double up on wipes and use a minimum of 10 baby wipes per baby dump.

I get chills up my spine when 3 year old Cryin' Ryan has been grunting in the bathroom and I hear the ominous call, "MAAAMMMMMMMM!!! YOU COME WIPE MY BUTT?!"

I clean my toilets obsessively, as if my salvation was dependent upon the lack poo particles found in my bathrooms.

I cannot accurately describe my rage towards human filth, so maybe the following list will enhance your understanding of my feelings.

Things I would rather do than deal with human feces:

• Quit my job - Which almost happened when I was a teenager working at Taco Bell. Someone shat ALL OVER a bathroom stall, my boss told me to clean it, I told her I will seriously quit that second if I really had to clean it. The boss cleaned it herself.
• Grow out my mustache.
• Eat insects.
• Clean up dead rotting mice - I actually trade my mom, who offered to deal with my kids poop for a few hours if I cleaned out the rat traps in her basement. Best trade ever.
• Have church people stop by my house unannounced, then feel insecure with myself because its 2pm and I'm still in my pajamas.
• Have an adult acne breakout.
• Punch myself in the face.
• Contract a mild strain of Rabies.

Maybe I should go to therapy.
Amen.

This picture has nothing to do with the post, I just felt that if I'm going to post about poop, a picture of Ryan should be included:

Kid Boogers

Boogers are playing a much larger part of my life than I ever expected.

Since moving to temperature-challenged Utah from sunny California, my boys have had more colds than I can count.
Boogers are running rampant in my house.

I never knew the human body was capable of such disgusting-ness.

Everytime he had a cold, Baby T-bag wakes up with snot crusted all over his little face.
He seems to enjoy it.


When I try to scrape it off, he cries, which leads me to believe he likes it all over himself. ew.

In the midst of a bad cold, I found this on Tyler's sheets one morning:

Bobby pin for size reference.
I cant handle it.

Lucky for me, Ryan doesn't eat his boogers. There is nothing worse than little kids eating their huge slimey boogers. I should know, I was totally one of those kids.

Sidenote: How come it you catch a kid eating thier snot in public, the look you right in the eye defiantly the whole time they are doing it?  

We taught Kid #1 to use Kleenexes.
He still hasn't grasped the concept that after you use the kleenex, you should throw it away. Instead, booger bandit leaves his nuggets on the tissue IN THE BOX.

Sometimes I wonder if I should teach him to eat them as it might be more sanitary.

Karma Crawling

Mmmmmkay.
After a 6ish month hiatus from the blogging world, I finally have my own computer back. We've moved into our Utah house and everything is clean and put away.... which means I can start writing/talking trash again.

Baby Tyler is 11 months old now, and is still annoyingly smiley.

You know those creepy babies that don't crawl normally, but pull themselves around on their bellies in an army crawling position?

AND, remember my sister, Megan??? Well when we first moved here last August, her baby totally did the weird army crawl. Ultimately he is really cute but in my mind I totally made fun of him.


Good thing because now Karma is coming back at me.
Little T-Bag is a creepy army crawler :(

I know in my heart that it's because I made fun of Feg's baby.

He has no interest in crawling correctly, which does not surprise me given my children's track record of being developmentally slow.

Maybe I shouldn't make fun of babies in my head anymore. But we all know I will.

At least little Titty Monkey has some mean dance moves.

I can assure you with a confidence level of 85%, that he is dancing.... not humping our carpet.

Also, Ryan wanted me to take a video of him crawling, but then he just turned around and tried to put his butt in my camera. Typical behavior lately.