or… “March is On Notice”

Today is March 1st. It might have escaped my notice if the day hadn’t already gotten off to an “interesting” start. And by interesting I mean crappy. Quite literally, unfortunately as the two major incidents that have made today stand out in suck-dom have had to do with poop. Normally, I leave blogging about poop to Dooce, but today I’m going to have to mention it. Bear with me.

First, Kile took the puppy out first thing this morning for her morning “constitutional”. He reported that she did, in fact, go poop. So we let her run around and terrorize Beetoe at will. A short while later, however, Kile cursed as he caught her pooping on the floor. She must REALLY had to go. He cleaned it up (or did he?) and then took her out again. Fast forward about 45 minutes to me getting the boys out the door so I could drop Harry at school. In the garage, I notice I’ve left tracks. Yes, I stepped in poop and proceeded to track it out into the garage. I don’t worry about the garage so much, but it was also tracked somewhat in the kitchen and poop that’s been stepped in is much more difficult to clean up. Not to mention having to clean my shoe. GRR. So either Kile didn’t quite clean up the whole mess from before or that puppy had a serious amount of poop going on. Either way, FEAR.

Shortly before this happened, however, Liam had a diaper blowout of epic proportions. Of course, right? He was in the exersaucer, which we all know magnifies the blowout. What might have been a normal “filling of the diaper” was elevated to blowout status simply because of the saucer. But I love the saucer so I refuse to speak too harshly about it in its presence. Anyhow, I got all the cleaned up and had to keep Liam from grabbing at the dirty diaper while I finished the change. Why didn’t I just put the offending diaper in the Diaper Champ, you ask? Well, when Kile (finally) took out the diaper trash yesterday, he hadn’t put a bag in it. And I hadn’t put a bag in it. And you can’t put diapers in the Diaper Champ without there being a bag in it. Damn me and my laziness. I do it to myself half the time, don’t I?

So I’m kinda sick of poop over here. And it’s March. I hate March. I kind of have this tacit agreement with March that if it doesn’t bug me, I won’t bug it. But it’s bugged me today so I’m putting March officially “On Notice”. Not that there’s much I can do if March doesn’t shape up it’s act. It’s not like I can just not do March anymore. Like it or not, March comes every year. All thirty-freakin-one days of it. I’m thinking I might need some more alcohol in the house if I’m gonna make it through.