Well, we're official members of the Poop is Fun to Play With Club

I can't believe it's taken us 22 months to officially earn our membership into this prestigious club. Sure, Kaylee had the whole episode when she was about 6 months old where she crafted a beautiful poop painting with her toes, but it wasn't until about 15 minutes ago that she inducted herself into the Poop is Fun to Play with Club.

I was sitting here, enjoying the fact that I could actually blog because Kaylee was quietly napping. I was working on some details for an upcoming food-themed week on the blog full of recipes, tips, giveaways and healthy, money-saving ideas. I was also trying to figure out how to tell you about the great books (11 so far) that I've read this year. So, I hear her start to fuss, but I let her be because it wasn't time for her to get up yet, and she was just whining a little bit.

Well, the whining quickly turned into a full blown fit, and I'm thanking my lucky stars I went in there at the precise moment I did or I fear that Kaylee would've facilitated her very own Extreme Nursery Makeover: Poop Edition.

I walk in and she's clutching her diaper - which is not on her body, and she's quietly saying, "Diaper off...diaper off."

Yes, my little baby genius. You are right. Your diaper is off. And your bed has poop on it. And you are playing with your poop. And I am totally grossed out.

So, the plans about food week and the ideas about sharing my must-reads with you had to wait.

I thought perhaps I could finish some of my thoughts by letting her watch Barney on the portable DVD player here in the office. But, she knows how to change it to Spanish now, and if there's anything more annoying than Barney, it's Barney and his obnoxious little pals singing in Spanish, so I'm afraid that's the end of my writing for today.

The latest scoop on poop

Before I get into our latest story, you should probably go read about our first bathtub poop experience - click here to read "Fishin' for Turds - My Maiden Voyage." It'll help you understand why I'm so excited about a certain bath toy that functions as so much more than just a bath toy...

If you're new to my blog, then you may very well have missed out on a lot of my crappier posts. And by crappier I don't mean that they were bad posts. There were just a lot of posts about, well - about crap, quite literally. They are all still very near and dear to my heart.

There was "Can't a girl just poop in peace?" - a post about how I eventually learned the art of the "fake poop" just to get a few moments all to myself.

There was, "Well, that's just crap-tastic" - a post about my child's first piece of artwork fashioned out of nothing but straight up baby crap.

Then, we had the aforementioned post about my first experience delving into the murky waters of the bathtub poop.

In case you decide to rob yourself of a good laugh and you decide not to read that post, basically I just talked about the first time I barehanded a baby turd out of the tub. It was the tiniest little turd you ever did see, and I wished to high heaven that I would have had a little net to scoop it up with.

Well, not too long after that fun little escapade, my mom got Kaylee some bath toys that all had a fishing theme. There's a fishing pole, fish that squirt water, foam water creatures that stick to the side of the tub, and perhaps most importantly, a "fishing" net so your kiddo can scoop up the toys as if they are on a fun fishing trip. Here's the gorgeous net I speak of.














See, whoever designed this set of bath toys was undoubtedly a parent. They realized that kids would see this as a fun mechanism for collecting toys. But, they knew parents would take one look at this net and they'd instantly come to the realization that this handy dandy net doubles as a poop net.

It's hard to believe, but several months have come and gone, and all the toy has been used for is scooping up toys. But, all good things must come to an end.

Two nights ago as I was sitting on the couch, doing some stuff for work and watching the season premier of Army Wives, I suddenly hear the booming voice of my husband coming from the bathroom where he was giving Kaylee a bath.

"Sera?!?!? Guess who just took a crap in the tub!"

"SERA!!! Get in here!!!"

I start giggling to myself, put my papers down, and run for the bathroom. This time, we had just a bit more than the tiny pencil eraser sized turd. There were multiple sinkers and floaters, and we needed a plan.

I grabbed a towel and Dennis handed me the baby (I was still laughing to myself as I took her to her room to dry her off). I reminded him about the baby turd net, and he bravely fished the turds out of the tub.

So, we finally got to use the "fishing" net for what I believe it was truly designed for. And I'm not even upset that I wasn't the one who got to break it in. I know my time is coming...

I've come a long way, baby

It's been a big year for me.

The biggest thing that's happened for me in the past year was welcoming sweet Kaylee into the world. She's going to be ONE next month - a concept I still can't wrap my head around.

I've learned a crap load of things about myself since becoming a mom. There's things I can do now that I could never do before, and believe it or not - a handful of these things actually have nothing to do with being a mom.

After Kaylee was born, I doubted myself so much, especially in those first few weeks. I had a really hard time making the adjustment from being just a wife to being a wife and a mother.

But, this past year, my confidence has grown a lot. I think it started when I realized that I can't be a "perfect" mother. I had to face it - Kaylee wouldn't always get a bath every day, a hot, home cooked meal was not always going to be on the table, I wouldn't get to shower every day, and there would not be one single day of my life since the day my baby was born that my entire house would be clean.

Go ahead and insert a big sigh right about here.

Finally realizing that I couldn't live up to my idea of the perfect mother/wife was directly related to a boost in my self-esteem (don't get me wrong - there are still plenty of days when my confidence goes down the crapper...) While I was becoming more confident in my role as a mother, my confidence starting growing in other areas of my life as well.

A year ago, there were so many things I just simply couldn't do.

I couldn't establish and stick to a strict budget without buying "little things" here and there that we may or may not have needed. Now I can.

I couldn't sit on the toilet and pee, while holding a child and talking on my cell phone - all at the same time. Now I can.

I couldn't imagine what it would actually look like to have my living room floor covered in ripped up tissue in a matter of seconds. Now I can.

I couldn't talk on the phone while wiping someone's ass. Now I can totally do that.

I couldn't spend less than about $100 on groceries in a week. Now I can.

I couldn't fit into my favorite pants. Now I can!

I couldn't imagine letting my child sit in front of the TV for 30 minutes (ok - 45 sometimes...) before she was even a year old, just so I could have some peace and quiet. Now I can.

I couldn't walk in to a patient's room at my job and ask them to talk to me about why they wanted to end their life. It was too scary for me, and I just couldn't do it. Now I can.

I couldn't understand why some moms yelled at their kids in the grocery store. Now I can.

I couldn't look at a tiny little turd and even think about just fishing it out of water bare handed - no way in heck, dude! But that changes when you run the risk of your kid eating that little turd. No way I could have done it a year ago. Now I can.

I've come a long way, baby.

I'm a proud, money-savin', butt-wipin', waist-shrinkin', domestically disabled, barehanded turd-wranglin' mom who loses my patience more than I wish I did, and who lets her baby watch TV.

But, I can hold my baby and talk on the cell phone while I pee, so that makes up for everything else, because there's probably a lot of people out there who couldn't do that even if they tried.

This has been another Thursday Writer's Workshop post - made possible by the lovely and talented Mama Kat from Mama's Losin' It.

The three and a half hour blog post and a week of blogging milestones

So, my post about trying to make my brother eat dog poop? Took me 3 and a half hours. Not because it took me that long to think of what to write. No - because a certain somebody...


...has been fighting a nap all morning long. She falls asleep, I put her down, she screams, and the cycle repeats repeatedly. Plus, we had breakfast, played, changed 3 poopy diapers (and it's only 10:35 a.m.) and I managed to get a shower - although I'm still in my fluffy pink robe.

So, if you've been wondering why I've been a little absent from my blog (and it's redesign), it's because I've been working a lot, and when I've been home I just haven't had much time to get on the computer. So that's that.

Anyway, this past week I hit some sweet blogging milestones! First, April over at The Life of Me Plus Three bestowed upon me my very first bloggy award. Woo hoo! Thanks April!



And! Hold on to your hats! I won my first blog giveaway! Sassy Stephanie over at Our Piece of Quiet had a giveaway for this book, and I won! Neener, neener. Thank you, Stephanie!

She didn't explain what it was about, but apparently she couldn't put it down, so I'm thrilled to read it for myself and discover what mystery awaits within its pages. I'll let you know what I think after I read it.

Anyway, I gotta go. My screaming child and her hidden tooth #3 are calling for me.

T minus 3 hours until my BFF gets here and we have an afternoon WITHOUT KIDS. And just 30 more minutes until the babe's next dose of Tylenol is due.

I.need.chocolate...

I almost convinced him to eat dog poop

Yesterday was a tough day for me. I suck, and I mean suck at goodbyes. I get all teary and my nose gets all stuffed up and my makeup runs and I just look like a blubbering idiot. I hate goodbyes - I have never, and will never be good at them. In fact, I'd like to kick goodbyes square in the arse.

I wish I could take goodbyes and shove them inside a football. Then I'd find someone to kneel on the ground, hold the football up straight, and then I'd take a running start at that dang football of goodbyes and kick the crap out of it, just like a kicker in the NFL.

My little brother (and by little, I mean the kid towers over me and is a super lean baseball playin' machine - saying the word "little" is just my way of making me feel not so old) went back to college yesterday. Out of the state. Far, far away. (So, it's only an 8-hour-drive...it's still far away, people.)

My mom, Kaylee and I went out to breakfast with him at a quaint little mom and pop hole-in-wall breakfast joint that has the best cinnamon rolls this side of the Mississipi. We stuffed our faces, laughed at the baby, and had a darn good time. But I know that we were all dreading the end of breakfast because we'd have to say goodbye.

Let me just get this out of the way and tell you straight up that my little brother kicks ass. He's so stinkin' awesome. In all honesty, you should probably be jealous that he's not your brother. And no, I will not share him. He is my brother.

When we were kids we had our share of tiffs and fights. And, one time he was *this* close to eating a dog turd in our back yard because I convinced him that it was actually just a huge tootsie roll. I think one of my parents must have intervened at that point. I'm not really sure. All I know is that no turds were consumed that day.

Somewhere along the line, he lost the little blond curls, he quit playing with Tonka trucks, and he eventually quit wearing his bright red Mighty Morphing Power Rangers costume 24/7.

Looking back, it seems like I all did was blink and suddenly he'd traded the Tonka trucks for a catcher's mitt (did I mention the kid is a scholar athlete?), started growing facial hair, hit the weights, and managed to find one of the most beautiful, witty, giving and kind girls I've ever met, and she can handle his sarcastic humor and constant teasing. She just dishes it right back at him.

We still give each other loads of crap (although now it's figuratively speaking, and not in a, "Hey eat this because it's really a tootsie roll - I promise!" sort of way) because that's just that way we are. But, our relationship is much different than when we were kids. We can talk about stuff like politics, stupid professors, and some of our toughest struggles. Because we're both grown ups now.

I was a proud big sister on the day we brought you home...


And I'm a proud big sister right now. More than you could ever know. I love you.

This post is a part of Tuesday's Tribute. Click below to read more Tuesday's Tribute posts from other bloggers.


Yet Another Jay and Deb Production.

Fishin' for Turds - My Maiden Voyage

Well, I did it. I fished a turd out of the bath tub. Bare handed.

I was wishing I had one of these:









After Kaylee nearly flooded our kitchen floor with her fanatical splashing in the kitchen sink during bath time, we decided it was time for her to move on up to the actual bath tub. We took her diaper off before plopping her in the water, and we were very careful to make sure the tiny poop that was inside of it didn't drop out, but apparently there was more where that came from. We put her in the tub and suddenly I notice what appears to have been a cling on. Just the tiniest little turd - we're talking the size of a pencil eraser, people.

But, she still grabs for anything and everything in the tub and it goes straight for her mouth. As my child plays gleefully in the once-clean bath water, I start to panic. Again, my fear of my child eating her own poop kicks in, and I have no choice but to attempt to capture the little floater.

My husband just looks at me and says, "You gonna bare hand it?" I had no other option. So, for the first time in my life I intentionally picked up a piece of poop with my bare hands (I don't think I've ever accidentally picked up a piece of poop with my bare hands, but I digress...). Have you ever tried to fish a teensy turd out of bath water? It's no simple task!

So, I think I'm asking for one of the above fish nets for a stocking stuffer this Christmas. Just $1.19 at www.cheappetstore.com. Affordable, practical, protects me from poop germs - what more could a girl ask for? Plus, apparently it flows through the water quite nicely. Check out the product description: "A loose weave net for easy movement in water. These loose weave nets allow unhindered movement through the water. Available in 3", 5", 8", and 10" size nets and varied handle lengths."

God forbid that anything should hinder the movement of my baby turd net in the water! We just can't have that! I'm thinking I can start with a 3" net since she's still pretty small, and as the turds increase in girth, we'll just up the net size.

That's all. It was just a monumental achievement and I felt compelled to share it with you.

Well, that's just crap-tastic

This was originally posted on our family blog, but I figured it's quite appropriate to be placed here as well. I'd love to hear your own funny kid poop stories!

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Allow me to set the scene for you...

Ok, so earlier tonight, Dennis, Kaylee and I are all here in the office. I'm diligently working on figuring out strange computer codes in order to make the blog look all fancy, and Dennis is playing a game on the other computer. Kaylee is having a grand old time, just entertaining herself in her play center.

Dennis and I are just clicking away on our respective keyboards, when out of the blue he says, "Sera, did you fart?" I had to think about that one for a minute. "No, I don't think so," I told him. Instantly we both turn around and look at Kaylee.

She's got a huge grin plastered on that sweet little face of hers. That horrendous smell couldn't possibly have come from her. I'm noticing that her little, tiny legs are moving very fast, sliding around rather easily, when normally, she meets some resistance. Hmmm, what ever could that be about?

Dennis and I both realized what happened at the exact same moment.

(Go ahead and use your imagination about the choice words that were uttered at this point).

So, the bottom of her play center has a flat surface that her feet can rest on, right? Well, it looked like the surface of a finger painting by a master painter. Except this wasn't finger painting. It wasn't painting, and there were no fingers involved.

This work of art was fashioned with straight up poop and baby toes. Yep.

This little fiasco resulted in an immediate bath for Kaylee (whose new nickname, bestowed upon her by Dennis, is "Poop Dancer"). I felt like I was wrangling a calf holding her as Dennis ran the bath water. I couldn't let her touch her feet, her legs, her diaper - nothing. Oh, but my sweet little determined girl tried so hard to be a little pretzel. Normally such a cute attempt on her part, but this time it was my worst nightmare for fear that my child would actually put her own poop in her mouth, only because she puts everything in her mouth. I just kept thinking, "Oh, please don't put your hand in your poop. Don't eat your poop. Don't eat your poop..."

I'm standing there holding Kaylee as Dennis runs the water in her tub. We both just look at each other and immediately start to crack up. It was so funny!

And let me just say this. I'm realizing that there are words that you will never utter in your life, not unless you're a parent. I was scrub-a-dub-dubbin' Poop Dancer and the following phrase just pours out of my mouth with no forethought whatsoever: "Hey, stop squirming around so I can get the poop out from between your toes!"

This results in more laughter. I'm realizing laughing is sometimes the only way to get through some of the things you have to deal with as a parent. I mean, that was disgusting as all get out, but at the same time, it was so freakin' hilarious that it makes me giggle just thinking about it.

Man, I love that kid. Artistic toes and all...

Can't a Girl Just Poop in Peace?!?

Seriously, people.

Never in my life have I wished for anything more (okay, you got me - that's not entirely true - it's just how I feel right now)...

So, I have my morning bowl of fiber-y cereal, so as to keep myself regular. Then I add on a chewy and delicious, gas-inducing Fiber One bar. Two minutes later, it's time to drop the kids off at the pool, if you know what I'm sayin'.

I decide to go grab a new magazine and take my sweet time. My little one is happily entertaining herself in the Pack 'n Play - there should be no issues here.

WRONG!

I get five of my ten toes out the door and screaming ensues. I remember, "Oh yes, we're in the phase where she blows a gasket if I leave the room." But, cry she must. This mama's gotta poop.

I get my magazine, sit down, and wish to high heaven that I could just read the latest issue of Parenting - seriously - 5 pages is all I ask for. Is that so much?! Apparently, it is.

So, I spend my crapadoodle doo time with the door open so that I can talk to my child in the sing-songy voice that she loves so much, just so I don't have to hear constant screaming.

A dear friend of mine (who shall remain nameless) has two kids of her own. Not long ago she was telling me that gone are the days of the Leisurely Crap. No more dawdling on the pot. No more catching up on the bathroom reading. No more private time.

Unfortunately, due to the obscene amount of fiber I choose to have in my diet, my craps are always in the morning (unless I mistakenly consume 2 or more Fiber One bars - then I'm in for it all the live long day...) - when my husband is conveniently at work. This is unfortunate because, were he home during my oh-so-scheduled poops, I could enjoy a leisurely crap.

So, how do I deal? I have fake poops. Yep, fake poops.

He gets home - I suddenly have to crap. Oh, and it takes me a good 20 minutes, too. What's he gonna do? Tell me to hurry it up? I think not. So, I sit there on the crapper and read my magazine, pretending to poop. Hey, you do whatcha gotta do to get a little piece and quiet, and if it means faking a poop, then so be it.

Embrace your inner fake pooper, ladies!