For those of you who didn't know, my middle name is Anne. The name Anne, means "grace". Grace, however, is something, physically, that I lack. It's part of the reason I don't like to dance. It's the main reason I constantly walk into things and bang various body parts on various items (like the top of my head on the refridgerator "ceiling" this morning). Let's just say it, I'm clumsy. So, it shouldn't be too much of a surprise that I fell down the stairs last week. (In fact, I'm a little surprised it took me until last week to fall down the stairs here.)
So last Wednesday, Josh left in the morning for Tuscon. So I got up, got the boys up and breakfasted (yeah, I'm making it a verb now), and brought them back upstairs to get dressed. Zeke does fine on his own, so he was no problem. As I was picking out clothes for Finn, Deacon informed me he had to go to the bathroom. I told him to go, and continued getting Finn ready for the day. As I took off his pajama pants I saw that he had pooped - for the second time that morning. I went to the bathroom to get a diaper and some wipes, and realized that Deacon was still in there. I opened the door and Deacon said, "Mom, I pooped."
Oh, did he ever poop. Apparently he pooped while standing in front of the toilet, so there was a bit on the floor and a bit running down both of his legs. Awesome. So I turned on the tub, washed him down, washed the floor and piled up all the poopy clothes and towels so I could wash them after we got Zeke on the bus. (I did take the time to tell Deacon he did a good job by NOT pooping in his underpants, but that next time he needs to poop IN the toilet.) By the time I got all this finished though, it was already time to get shoes on and get Zeke to the bus (apparently if you're late here they leave without you, even if they're early - ahhh!). But Finn was still poopy and pantsless. SO I sent Zeke and Deacon downstairs to put their sneakers on, and quickly changed Finn's diaper.
The evening before, Josh took Deacon school shopping for new jeans and sneakers. And of course, Deacon picked out the same sneakers Zeke has. It is very sweet and cute, but made for a bunch of yelling that first morning, "MOM! ARE THESE MY SNEAKERS?!" "MOM! IS THIS MINE OR DEACON'S?" Already stressed I picked up Finn and headed for the stairs, telling the boys to wait until I got down there and then we'd figure it out.
I still don't know how it happend. I was rushed, I was stressed, I was in boots I haven't worn in probably 2 years, Finn was wriggling, and I missed a step (I guess) and stumbled down the stairs in slo-mo. I know it happened in slo-mo because I had the where-with-all to clamp down on Finn and position myself so that if I acctually went down my body would absorb most of the blow. I also saw Deacon sitting at the bottom of the stairs, directly in my path, staring at me, completely ignoring my constant yelling of "MOVE DEACON!" "DEACON GET UP!" "MOOOVEE!!!"
Now, I never actually "fell" as in falling onto my butt or my back or my side. I did "fall" in that my feet kept slipping out from under me and I flew/slid down the majority of the stairs, stopping on the step right above the step Deacon was sitting on. This didn't help my stress level at all, by the way.
After I stopped falling, and sat down to try and stop myself from shaking I looked at Deacon and yelled, "God dammit Deacon! When I say move, get off your butt and MOVE!" (I owe Linda $5 for her "consequenses jar" now.) And no sooner do I finish yelling at Deacon and stand up then Zeke says, "Is this my shoe, Mom?" I screamed. AAAHHHHH!!!! Then he asked if I was hurt, and boy was I. My entire left side was SO hurt. My shoulder, wrist, thigh, ankle and 2nd toe were all so sore. At least everyone else was alright.
I then calmed myself, showed Zeke how to determine which shoes are his and which are Deacon's by their sizes (and it's never been an issue again). I got all of us to the bus without further incident, and on time. After Zeke got on the bus, the other 2 boys and I went to PWOC, came home, had lunch, and as I put Finn down for his nap (after changing his 3rd poopy diaper of the morning), Deacon did it again. As I walked into the bathroom to help him Deacon looked up at me and said, "Mom, I need another bath." After assessing the situation it was clear that this time he had tried to poop in the toilet as he had put the little seat in the toilet and there was poop on it, but I guess he just didn't make it. So, I cleaned him up, again, put him in a diaper, lest there be more poop, and gently collapsed onto the couch. And that was just the morning...
7 comments:
Oh my goodness Beth, I'm glad you're ok. And that is a LOT of poop for one morning, by the way.
Oh Beth; I am so sorry. :-( That stairs look scary. My now 11 year old niece only pooped in diapers at 4, and she is potty trained now. ;-)
My middle name is Ann and I lack grace too....oh, AND I was born on a Tuesday (you know that nursery rhyme?) You gotta love irony.
My consequence jar wants you to go buy some ice cream. (Oh, delicious swears!) Seriously, sometimes you just need ice cream to make it through days like that...and a well-stocked consequence jar can be a handy source of comfort. Not that I condone swearing. Ahem.
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