Time for some scintillating levity here at A Life in Balance! Time to celebrate the messiness of life with 5 kids in all its poopy glory! Because as I think about the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School last Friday, I am reminded that we are called to embrace life. To live life to its fullest.
First of all, did I ever tell you about the time my third son decided to play poop ball in his room? No…well, let’s just say that being a boy, he had an accident and decided it would be fun to throw the poop at the ceiling. The ceiling which had recently been painted white. Needless to say THAT ceiling received a fresh paint job after being sterilized within an inch of its life.
Next up is a typical story about my youngest son. The same son who has women all over the place handing him candy just to get him to smile. Anyhoo, this son still isn’t comfortable pooping in the big potty. Yes, another poop story. This one ends a little better. My son pooped in the little portable potty and told his dad who went into the bathroom to clean up. Seeing the size of the poop (when you’ve changed about a billion diapers, you’re always amazed at the size of what comes out of those little bodies), my husband exclaimed, “Oh, my dear Lord!” (Yes, he does say that.) My youngest said to him, “Easy, Dad. It’s only a poop.”
My third son is well-known for his exuberance and loud voice. There is no “inside voice” with him. About four years ago, we were sitting in mass on the last day of school. I was wrangling 3 kids at the time while my oldest son was sitting with his class. At a quiet moment during mass, son number 3 says in his usual volume, “Mom, when are we leaving this stinking church?”
We didn’t need to babyproof the house much when we had our oldest son, though in retrospect, we should have locked up the scissors. Because, one summer when he was about 5, he cut the front of his hair…and his eyelashes….and his eyebrows. Fortunately, for him, everything grew back. Now he has a huge mop of curly hair which we constantly battle over. He doesn’t want it cut, and I do.
My last story features son #3 again. Yes, this is a child who is very creative. Very. He and his younger sister decided to cover themselves one afternoon with mud, sticks, stones, and plants. After I cleaned the two of them up with a bath, I sent both upstairs to their bedrooms while I cleaned up the now muddy bathroom.
At the time, the screens in the children’s bedrooms were not locked in place like they are now. I look out the dining room window to see books falling out of the sky. Actually, books being tossed out of the window by my son and daughter. I yell at them and clean up the books and go back to cleaning up the house. The little stinkers go to my daughter’s window and dump books out that one. We don’t find those until after it rains the next morning.
Did I mention my mother loves that story?