Saturday, November 15, 2008

Poop poop and more poop

Ahhh, 6 months home and still having poop issues! Not that most people wouldn't have this issue after eating clementines by the dozens! It's clementine season here in Wisconsin and Julia and Rauan love them--always have. But, by age 5 and 6 they have developed some self-control. Not Chewie. Everytime I turned around, he was shoving a clementine in his mouth. Ok--fruit is good--but c'mon! So--it was bound to happen (actually he isn't bound up at all), and, being the graceful Pritchard family--of course the very public Madison Ice Arena and Madison Polar Caps were there to witness it. Why???
Ted was just finishing up the third group of initiation players. I gathered up Julia and Rauan and took them to the concession stand (yeah I'm easy) for nachos and slushies. Julia started running up and down the hall with some other children. As wild as they have been lately--I encouraged it--use up that energy! Chewie, being Chewie, joined in. All of the sudden he went into the bathroom. Ok--no problem. Then, hysterical crying from the bathroom. Mom to the rescue. "Momma I poop". " You have to poop sweetie? Ok, (shit!), let's find daddy to get this equipment off". So, off I go to get Ted to take off his breezers and all that other hockey crap that I have no idea how to undo. We get to Ted, who is undoing his skates and I ask him to take off the equipment. So, he starts to while Chewie is still crying. Then the smell hit. Now--ok I have a pretty fricking strong stomach, but that about knocked me over. He crapped his pants. Double shit. Literally. So, let's get him cleaned off. Ted had Chewie's socks off(those knee high ones the hockey players wear) and all the sudden I (and the rest of the skating arena) heard "Je--- C----T there's shit running down his legs!" Sweet mother of God, it's a poop fest. So, I ran to get paper towels so Ted could wipe off his hands and we can wipe off Chewie's rather stinky legs. Not much we could do--the breezers were holding the majority of the poop in. Thank God, one of the other coaches (Thanks Jim!) had some plastic grocery bags. We covered up the car seat, loaded him in and went home. Into the shower--hockey gear and all. Ok, I get paid a good amount of money to deal with poop and I also have gloves. I really wish I had gloves here. By the way, the washing machine works really good!
I've found a new hiding place for the clementines. Limit: 1 per day. Until they find the new hiding place. Yes, this is why Santa does layaway and Grandma's holding house.


Hilary Marquis said...

I'm sorry, but I'm LAUGHING! I'm impressed that Ted managed to stay long enough to get the gear off...Tim would've been gagging and trying to escape. Poor Chewie! I had to deal with something similar with a child at a B-day party a year ago, not a fun situation. Fortunately at our house Anara's favorite fruit (Bananas) has the the opposite effect (hence the need for miralax ;0

Mala said...

I so feel your pain! Ewwwww. I'm so not good with poo! And isn't it great when you have an audience? Yay, memories!
Last May we were all having a splendid time playing in a beautiful park in Beverly Hills. The kids were having so much fun playing at the rich kids' playground when all of a sudden Beck got that 'oh shit' look and yelled 'Mama I need to go pee'. The dang bathroom was way the heck on the other side of the park (C'mon rich people! bathrooms belong very close to where children congragate because us parents (or in their case, Nannies) usually get bare minimum warning!) Anyways, we hoofed it as fast as possible across the manicured greens but just as we got to the bathroom entrance Beck let go let a fire hose! That ended our lovely day in Beverly Hills as we had to remove his pants and wrap him in a shirt for the walk of shame back to the car.
One fun note was as we were rinsing our pee-soaked little tyke I realized that THIS was the infamous George Micheal's bathroom. Ahhh, it'll be a great story to tell his first date.

Lisa said...

OH man JP! What a mess. ~hugs~ from Denmark. Can you find me $30K?