The great poop debacle

Whoa! This blog entry is taking a turn. An hour ago I was sitting on the couch typing an entry with totally different (yet less entertaining) content when I heard a rumble erupt from the nether-regions of my youngest offspring. Every mother knows and dreads that rumble. One the likes of which no diaper known to man can contain... Yep, her little newborn diaper wasbursting at the seams with runny yellow baby crap.While AC (let's facetiously call her "Flash" for the rest of this entry...does that tell you anything about her ability to discern urgency??) was off fashioning a diaper and wipes by hand, Rory, sans diaper, exploded again. This time all over her receiving blanket, socks, and onsie.

I think it goes without saying that Rory had her first full-on immersion bath this evening. It was a circus trying to get everything in order to dunk the poo-ball... I tried to keep poop from dripping while grabbing towels and a baby washcloth and sent Flash to get, in turn, the Clorox wipes from the bathroom (so I could wipe out the kitchen sink), a new onsie, the lotion, soap, an extra towel, a diaper, and, of course, my phone, so I could preserve the moment for posterity. All the while, Rory was screaming like a banshee. No wonder though, I would too if I were cold and naked on the kitchen counter covered in my own crap. Oh, and I might add that Clayton's friend from Bible college decided that this was a perfect time to call and congratulate us on the new baby...poor guy, I know he had no idea, but really, what is WRONG with men's timing???

When the bath (and screaming) was finally over, I know what Rory was thinking while sucking the life out of her pacifier, "What the hell just happened to me??" Can't you just see it on her face? SO funny...

After cleaning up, putting AC to bed, and dousing Rory's poo-soaked clothes with an entire bottle of Shout, I'm spent. Time to wrap this puppy up and sit down with my mini bottle of sweet red, bag of baked Ruffles, and the new episode of Survivor. Does that sound like class or what?!?

Until then,

AC 'n' Rory's Mom

P.S. My kid has the most HILARIOUS monkey hair...this is guiltless mocking, I hear I had the same head of hair!

This calls for pie...

Funny how getting a computer of your own can cause you to take up pursuits otherwise deemed unnecessary. Things such as Farmville, Frontierville, Cafe World...oh, and that blog that you so cavalierly abandoned many moons ago.

I had planned to wax poetic about my list of accomplished tasks, the dinner I didn't have to cook, and the joys of sitting in the recliner watching Julie and Julia. However, my peaceful evening took a turn for the paranoid while I was *ahem* cyber farming

(and spamming my and other's pages with farm updates, offers of fuel, and bushels of raspberries). Out of the corner of my eye, a small dark shadow flickered across my kitchen floor. It was nothing, really...I've just been wearing my contacts too long, right? WRONG! Up until TONIGHT, I have dealt with mice, but only in the walls, they had never ventured into the part of the house that I inhabit. Not anymore, my friend, said shadow was a MOUSE scampering merrily through my kitchen!! There are many things that skeeze me out: big bugs, birds, animal genitals as food...however, topping the list is rodents. And what is a mouse? A nasty, flea-infested, disease-ridden, rodent vermin. *shudder*

After realizing that I wasn't imagining things, I did what any other red-blooded American powder puff would do, I called

my mom. After some brief commiseration, she, of course, laughed at me... I don't think she understands the extent to which mice affect me. I jerk awake in the middle of the night with visions much akin to that scene in Ratatouille where the little old lady blows a hole in her ceiling only to find a bazillion rats living in her house. Gag... Mom also laughed at my consternation that my fervent prayers against vermin infestations have availethed pretty much squat. Fo' reals, if God can bring people back from the dead and tell animals to hoof it onto a boat two by two, what is stopping Him from sending out a supernatural memo to the rodents of Amarillo that my house is off limits??

Ok, mom off the phone, it's time to get the kids in bed and, thank God, I have some extra traps (the expensive, but wonderfully all enclosed kind).

Baby has been fed, but continues to scream her guts out and AC is refusing to get off the couch for fear of being accosted by the mouse. Wonderful. I left them both doing their best to go hoarse to set traps in the kitchen and pile Cool Whip on the slice of raspberry chiffon pie I intended to eat in bed. (Yes, I am eating pie in bed. Don't judge me...)

Traps set and outta the kitchen I go. I sure as hell am not going to stick around and LISTEN to the little nasty beasts getting killed.

Walking into my room, I find that AC is watching a Mexican soap opera on YouTube on my phone and has, seemingly out of the blue, developed a large lump under her eye. Great... We go to the doctor tomorrow and it looks like I socked her in the peeper. Will she TELL me what happened??? Nooo, that would be FAR too easy on a mother who's sanity is about to fly the coop. After a lengthy pantomime, I have deduced that she was attempting to dance around in her room, tripped, and smacked her eye on something.

She says the wall...don't know how that could be, but whatever. I think the story I've pieced together is about as good as it's going to get.

Keep in mind that throughout all of this, the baby has been hitting ear piercing decibals with no intention to cease. I'm tempted to sit on my contaminated mouse floor and join her.

One Barbie mermaid movie and two sore nipples later (AC watched a movie and the baby nursed...better clarify) both kids are asleep in my bed, my blog is updated, and my piece of pie is calling my name. To quote Billy Joel, "Oh, what a night".

Until then,

AC 'n' Rory's Mom

P.S. Please forgive any spelling errors in this post, the spellcheck feature doesn't seem to be working and my mouth is too full of raspberry-liscious Cool Whip for me to really give a crap at this particular juncture...