So far my morning has consisted of getting up with a teething boy at 4:30. Coaxing him to at least lay down in his crib and watch Thomas while I crashed for a few more hours. Getting back up at 7:30 to screaming which lasted until 9:00 when he decided oatmeal would be acceptable (I loaded it up with peanut butter to help dampen the noise). Calling in a Rx refill to the pharmacy, answering work email, monitoring a call from The Personal Assistant to DiDi and Papa while clearing the dishes, then suddenly rushing a pooping boy up the stairs only to have an accident which resulted in a mess that took 1/2 hour and a dreaded bath to clean up.
We made it to the potty too late, and it was teething diarrea. The worst kind of poo this side of meconium. It was all smeared on his butt/thighs/balls and would not come off. He did manage to smear some on the potty when he sat on it, so we celebrated that before I scrubbed his poor butt and put him in the tub. (It is really hard to get poop off the wrinkly balls of a kicking screaming two year old. They don't tell you that.)
My life is so glamorous.
And people wonder why I am still "lounging" in my pjs when they show up here at 10:00am. Word to the wise, don't show up at a stay at home Mom's house before noon expecting anyone to be dressed, and if you do, say nothing and entertain the kids for 10 minutes so she can pull herself together before you launch into the reason you showed up. We thank you.