Poop Soup

Perhaps the reason my posts have been scarce is due to the looming pile of laundry that never seems to get smaller, the yard that needs mowing, the poop that needs picking up or hosing off. Maybe it's because I have nothing new or exciting to talk about. Or maybe it's because every night, as I lie in bed, I "blog" in my head. Once I've thought out all the clever and witty things I'd like to say, my brain shuts down and I forget to hit the save button. So come morning, when the toddler in my life declares "Breakfast! Mommy? Glasses, breakfast. Please?," I have no memory of the goings-on of my life. Even still, it could be that my news seems so inconsequential that I fear my blubbering on about nothing will scare you all away.

I'm sure there's some reason buried in there that will make sense to at least one of my readers.

Here's a funny story:
The toilet is clogged. Not knowing about the obstruction, I dumped half a butter-bucket's worth of kitty poop in the toilet. I tried to flush... Oh no. Yep. Now it's REALLY clogged. Brian and I try multiple times over the course of three hours to un-clog the toilet to no avail. The following morning, when the water level is still high - murky and uninviting - I try once more to plunger-attack it so I can stop my silly pee-pee dance. Nope. After much rifling through archives of forums with home improvement tips, the suggestion to use an old garden hose as a plumber's snake comes up. Well lucky me! I have an old garden hose. Taking hose to the dank depths of my toilet, I stab blindly at the chunk of nuisance. And yet the hose isn't quite cutting it. Bing! Idea! I'll shoot a blast of air into the clog. Hand over hose and mouth over hand, I blow as hard as I can into the poop soup that is my potty. And it works! The clog is shifting...back up into my mouth!!!

That's right. For those related to me, I understand if you need to dis-own me until the shame of being my relative is more bearable. My apologies for my lack of fore-thought. I've always been flying through life by the seat of my pants. I guess toilet-plunging is no different.

And now, pictures of my beautiful daughter. Hopefully this will help you forget that I have insane moments of stupidity. I paid for my bright idea with lungs full of... well... poop. And a diagnosis of "minimal fecal ingestion" from the ER doc who shouted, "Get those kids a Sharpie!" after hearing about this. That's right. I googled, "I inhaled poop" when I thought I might die of some rare but serious infection associated with the inhalation and consumption of both human and feline fecal matter. A day in the life, right? A day in the life.

Playing with A in our backyard

Scooping sand. Yes, those are her play-clothes! Long story...

Playing on the playground at K's

Making faces with Dad

She loves this bridge!

This is before it got cold enough for the hat and gloves below.

Looking up at D - she thinks he's so cool!

Eating Cheerios from her little snack bowl.

Yep. Dad gave her two.

Slinging her baby

She's pointing at the binky I was holding hostage.

Reading the mail

Always playing with her belly button. Always.

And lastly, changing her baby's diaper. Unscripted, unprompted.

Did I regain any respect? None?

It's okay. Go ahead and laugh. I know I have.