Shit Happens

And when it happens at the Karel Household, we call it a shitastrophe.
Boy, have I had a shitty day. Warning: if you don’t have children or have a weak stomach, do not read this post. There, I warned you.

My day started way before the kids and I drove to Sun City to pick fruit off of my Grandparents citrus trees but that is where I will begin my story. I debated about taking Nelli (our new chocolate lab) with us because we would be going straight to swimming lessons after picking fruit. I thought I would just find a shady parking spot and she could sit in the car for 30 minutes during swimming lessons. No big deal, right? Nelli had gotten plenty of exercise while I was climbing trees hunting for fruit-something I haven’t done in years and don’t plan on doing anytime soon. We met all the neighbors, Tilly, Art, all the neighborhood dogs, who takes what for their arthritis, who broke their ankle last week, and what band is playing at the Sun Bowl this week. The boys had a blast as did Nelli. So off to swimming lessons. After swimming lessons I am trying to lasso the boys into the car, just like I do every other stop we make, and Luke finally gets into the car only to start yelling “mommy, nelli pooped all over the gator!” The gator being my Navigator. There is diarrhea all over my car. The only thing I can think to do is to get the kids in their seat and get home as fast as I can. As I am driving home, texting Ben to tell him what happened, Luke starts yelling again, “mommy she is pooping again!” I look in my rear view mirror and Nelli is squatting and pooping while I am driving down the road. Of course, she is then stepping in it and well…you get the picture. I get home and back the gator into the driveway. I send Luke inside to lock the doggie door so Nelli can’t escape and drag poop through our house. You will soon understand the irony of this thought of mine. The car is still running and I take Nelli around the side gate to the back yard. I then get back in my car to reverse into the garage so I can clean up the poop in my car. Oops, my back door on my gator is still up. CRASH! Glass everywhere-dangling windshield wipers. I thought I had completely torn off my entire back door. All I can think about is how much it is going to be to replace the entire electric door. Of course, my boys are ok. Luke was crying because it scared him. A lady who was running, who I noticed before driving in because she had a cute little running skirt on blah blah blah, and she runs into my driveway and says “I’ve done that, I’ve done that. Are you ok? Can I help? I’ve done that! If this is the worst thing that happens, then this is good!” I explain to her why I was backing my car in the first place. All she did was hug me and then turned around to continue her run. Dang, I forgot to ask her where she got her cute running skirt. So, I am looking at 100000000000000000000 pieces of glass, my entire driveway and garage are literally covered in glass. I finally turn the car off, get Luke calm, take Mason inside to put down for a nap, change my clothes, grab different shoes for Luke, and start vacuuming. Luke and I vacuumed for 2 ½ hours. No joke. He kept saying “mommy the glass is in the poop now, how are we gonna attack the poop. That is going to be disgusting mommy. Mommy I told you so. Mommy I told you to stop. Mommy you didn’t listen to me.” I don’t have a clue where he as ever heard that before. So, Ben isn’t home yet and I know he has to come home, change clothes, and go to a “work” dinner. I HAVE to get my car to the car wash to have it shampooed and I know this is going to take a while. I have no ride home. So, I load the kids into the ghetto car stained with poop with no back window and wipers dangling to the side and off we go to the car wash. I tell the guy my dog made a mess and bargain down the price, of course. I then whipped out the double mountain buggy stroller and ran 3 miles home. That triathlon “training” is really coming in handy now. So we get home and I have to start juicing the oranges we picked. We do this for quite a while, long enough to make a huge sticky mess. Uncle Me (known as my second husband-no we aren't swingers)decides to drop by on his way home from work. Perfect, just in time for Ben to drop me off to pick up my car while Uncle Me stays with the boys for 10 minutes. Now we can avoid switching the car seats, cleaning off the boys, etc. We get to the car wash and my car isn’t finished. They let me know that they didn’t realize what was in the back of the car. They thought it was dirt or spilled milk. What? So, Ben drops me off at home and he goes off to his “work” dinner. Mason apparently got upset when I left and Uncle Me gave him some milk and Mason spilled it all over the floor. FYI- Mason doesn’t like milk. So, while I am catching up with Uncle Me I start to smell more poop. I finally find more diahhrea on my oriental rug. It was unbelievably disgusting. It was quite difficult to find all the spots on the rug and I can still smell it. While my butternut squash ravioli is boiling over (dinner for the boys) I clean up more poop. I strip down the boys because they are now covered in sticky juice and milk. (and the fact that they are about to eat ravioli in red sauce and why create more stains on top of the stains that are already on their clothes) In the meantime, Uncle Me has left. I would have too if I could. So, more poop cleaned up, time to feed the boys. My little human garbage disposals polish off the meal and then polish off the cake that I made myself after the triathlon. Correction- I made myself cake batter to eat then baked what was left. Off to the bath. “Do not touch anything and get in the bathtub.” More bubbles, more scrubs, another water fight, another dance party, etc. Mason busts a bean and I say “wow somebody has their motor goin.” I am getting ready to do our night time regime when I find MORE poop in the family room. I ask Luke to lock the doggy door again because I am putting Nelli outside until her stomach settles down. He informs me that the doggy door is already locked. OF COURSE IT IS! From earlier in the day with round 1 shitastrophe. Poor dog. So, I walk Nelli outside and the boys follow, naked and all. We have been letting Mason not wear a diaper after bath and he has been peeing on the toilet at night. So he informs me in his own little way that he needs to potty. I asked Luke to show Mason how to pee in the rocks. Now, some of you may not understand, but this is a HUGE moment for the Karel Household. Mason and Luke are standing their naked both peeing on the rocks just giggling at each other. So back inside where…… I find MORE poop. Not kidding. I can not make this stuff up. So, as I am cleaning that up (now I have already taken out the trash, stepped over the glass in the garage, restocked the paper towels, and ran out of cleaning supplies) I hear Luke say “somebody’s got their motor running.” I’m thinking to myself, gosh he is such a parrot. Then I hear Mason scream. I look over in the play area off of our family room and Mason is at the end of a long trail of poop foot tracks. There is a giant dump of poop by the train table, 2 soccer balls with poop on them, and poop ALL over Mason. I am talking in between his toes, down his leg, you get the point. At this point I don’t know if the poop is from the dog or him. I discover it is from Mason. He pooped on the floor. At least he pooped on the hard wood floors, he then just stepped in it and walked on my front rug. I pick him up and throw him back in the tub. Get him clean, DIAPER ON, and then go and clean up the poop. It is WAY past bedtime now and Luke is begging for books, chillos, tuck in, anything he can possible negotiate out of me. I just said mommy is closed. Mommy is done. Mommy has had a crazy day. What is weird is that I am still in a great mood. Several calls to the insurance, body shop, later, my little reverse incident isn’t going to cost us a thing. We have a $0 deductible for glass repair and they said they could fix the windshield wipers too. YEAH! OK, quick remember to call the babysitter for Saturday! Mommy needs a night off. Now my gator is still at the car wash. Ben should be home around 9 and we are going to lock the house up, say a prayer, let the kids keep sleeping, and drive 3 miles to pick it up.



Update: Just got a call from my new friend Tilly in Sun City and she found Nelli's dog tags when she was walking her little white fluffy thing she calls a dog. "It must have been when your dog escaped from the leash you had tied to the tree to chase after the golfers." My grandparents home is on a golf course. Nelli is everybodys best friend. She'll learn. Tilly called the number on Nellis tag-my husbands. My husband is now afraid to answer the phone when he sees I am calling. I don't blame him. I just called Home Depot and have a steam cleaner on hold to rent tomorrow when I will be cleaning our carpet. I am sure I'll have another story after our trip to Home Depot. The boys have to chase after all the tractors in Home Depot and then we always go and look at the "motor tools." You do know that Home Depot allows dogs. I'm seriously debating that one. My car will be fixed tomorrow between 12-5- you know I have NOTHING better to do for 5 hours than to wait for a glass for my car. Perhaps I shouldn't be driving in this state of mind anyways. For all of our benefit I have NO pictures of my escapades today. I know you are disappointed. I know when the sun rises and I can see better, I will be finding more... What can I say, shit happens.





FYI- Tilly is mailing Nellis tags back so I don't have to take the dog and two boys to Pet Smart to replace them. THANK GOODNESS!