S^#T MANAGEMENT

So Seth took the boys to Washington to visit Gramma & Grandpa last week and I got so much done, including opening the mixer and food processor we received as wedding gifts 7 years ago. I organized every room, the refrigerator, my small stock shelves from some couponing endeavors, my coupons, files on my new computer, my pictures, etc. etc.

I couldn't believe the incredible feeling I experienced by putting something down and having it stay there! Making myself a glass of water and not having any backwash in it! The fresh smell of a clean house lingered for days without the aroma of maleness.

Then...they came back. Two days ago. Monday, it's back to the grind. Tuesday, a friend with 3 extra kids came over for dinner. And this morning after dropping the two off at the Y, the tears start flowing. Seth reaches over and wipes one away, I'm sure with a tinge of snot intertwined, and asks, "what's wrong?"

I had no words as I had just realized I have a PhD in Shit Management. I clean up shit all day long. They were gone for a week and I organized shit. They come home and I have four times the shit to hit. I wipe shit, correct shit, touch shit, install shit, hang shit, wash shit, protect shit, pick up shit, water shit, fold shit, do shit, toss shit. 

It was then Seth comforted me, praying for me like a good husband should. We arrived home and he left for work. Conrad and I jump in the car to run an errand, but I pull over to chat with a neighbor before we get going. I look back after a few minutes to check on him in his brand new car seat in my brand new car and he has a strange substance on his fingers.

I get out, and you guessed it: SHIT. The exploding diaper kind, the runny, smelly kind, the up the back, out the sides kind, the I'm getting a molar kind. Ah, just the kind I love...the have to bathe the kid kind, then wash the car seat kind. And all I can say is, well, "Shit."

Nothing to do but clean it up and move on, just like a good mom does.

Today's prayer: "Thank you for forgiving me today for my trucker's mouth. And thank you for having taught me how to deal with sh...I mean stuff like Chloe jumping in the car yesterday with shaved legs. I know it will never end, and neither will my dependence on you."