Better Off Not

There is one word that comes to mind tonight, one word I find I frequently use. A word I’d be better off NOT using, but it seems to be a word I use quite often. I whisper it to myself when I’m stressed or just can’t believe something… If something scares me, it can slip out. Once I tell you what I wanna tell ya, I bet you can guess the word I’m implying…

It’s everywhere in our yard. Everywhere. The boys came in yesterday and had it all on their shoes so I had to clean those off. It was smeared on our front porch, you could see splotches of it. A clump of it was found in the dining room as I walked by yesterday. No, I’m not talking about mud.

Do you have a dog? Mmm hmm, that’s what I’m talking about. It’s disgusting, so much so that I told the boys we aren’t going to feed Bean anymore, she can no longer eat. We see what her food turns into, it leaves nice “piles” all over the yard. Add in the warm weather and all the snow melting? Can you imagine the mess?

Yesterday afternoon I got a shovel out and went at it. As I worked and tried to pile it on the shovel, it wiggled away, as it was saturated from the warm air and melted snow. It’s hard to get liquid like piles onto a metal shovel. I tried and tried, even took up some grass. I felt like I was golfing and took out divits :). The boys would stand in places in the sideyard and yell, “here’s some more Mom!” so I’d make my way over with the shovel. Yeah, nice job for kids, eh?

So today the boys went out to play for a bit. They were having a great time, exploring out back, etc, but can you guess what caked their boots? Yep. The boots are still on the front porch waiting to be cleaned off, I just haven’t wanted to deal with them yet.

As the afternoon wore on, it was getting to be closer to the time we needed to leave for Granny and Gramp’s to drop the kids off. The boys got their shoes on and headed out while I grabbed Molly and the diaper bag, my purse and a bag of stuff to return to Target. Keep in mind Molly is crying cause she isn’t wanting to be in her car seat. Out the door I head. I see the boys in the front yard and I knew in an instant, I bet they are caked with “it” again. I yelled, “boys, out of the front yard, there’s dog poop out there,” to which they complied. Into the driveway they step holding their feet up as if disgusted. Yep. Caked on. So I have them traipse more on the front porch and take their shoes off. I’m ticked. I’m tired of it. Mikie can’t get his shoes off and is so grossed out, he doesn’t wanna use his spare hand to take the shoe off. It’s at that point I notice it isn’t only on their shoes, it’s also on the bottom of Mikie’s pants. I’m yanked now. I guess yanked that I’ve had to clean this ridiculous stuff up too much lately, yanked that Bean has to go all over the yard, yanked that the boys step in it repeatedly. So I snap and tell the boys, “go upstairs and change your pants, you too Jack, may as well, you probably have poop on yours too!” … I’m not happy.

So as I’m spraying off the feces yet AGAIN in my sink where I prepare FOOD, the boys come down all clean in nice clean jeans. Shoes are clean and dry, let’s go. Molly is still fussing. Out the door we head. Get the kids in the truck, I come back to lock the front door. Get back to the truck, Mikie and Molly are crying. Mikie is crying because, yep you guessed it, he has POOP on his SOCKS too. ARGH! So I yank his socks off and head back IN the house. As I come in the front door I look down to my shoes, which are tied ever so neatly. I do the poop check, YEP, there is poop on MY shoes too. How in the freaking world did that get there? Well, it did, so off my shoes come, run up the stairs in anger, grab Mikie some new socks, back out the door. I get to the truck where Molly is still crying, and Jack tells me “she’s been crying ever since we got in the truck!” Yeah, I know bud…

So off we go. I’m like ready to punch something, but I kept it under my lid. Mike yells from the backseat in a whining tone, “I can’t get my socks on,” so I answer in a not-too-happy tone, “I will help you when we get to Granny’s, Mike!” and Jack says, “Mom, I’m tired of Mikie’s whining voice.” Yeah, I know bud…

With all of this pressing on my mind and shaking my head at the mere thought of what I have had to clean up, can you guess what word comes to mind and mouth? I’m sure you can… it starts with a Shhh and ends with an IT!