school makes me poop...

Okay, so I haven't posted in a few days...I'm still new at this and bad about making time to do it. C's results from the urologist have come in...he has trained his sphincter muscles to stay clamped shut so that's why it hurts when he goes pee. She says our two options are laxatives (to help relax the sphincter muscles) or biofeedback therapy. Laxatives have a down-side...a BIG down-side...he already shits his pants when he gets engrossed in games...I would prefer if it wasn't diarrhea. That being said, my understanding of biofeedback therapy (and I full-well could be wrong here) is that it's like electric shock therapy. Sounds awful, but, my luck, knowing my kid, he'll enjoy it and keep the muscles clamped up just so he can go back for more. Ahhh...decisions, decisions...
C's end-of-the-year school show was Friday night. It got off to a rocky start. Rehearsal during the day involved an epic temper tantrum that involved holding on to the rungs of a banister and insane amounts of wailing. After practice, he complained all day about how it was gonna be boring and awful and terrible, no good, horrible, and any other adjective you might wish to add to the list that denotes misery. At some point during this fiasco of whining, I was again reminded by the cosmos of 2 things: 1) I am not an adaptive personality and 2) the more rushed and flustered I am, the more of a guarantee that is that shit WILL go wrong.
It started heading in a severe southbound direction around the time that I realized that my husband was NOT going to be home at the time he told me he would be. Apparently there was some sort of traffic fiasco on 78 on the way home and he got caught up in it. Knowing that C had to be at the show for 6:30 was weighing on me when it got to be 4:30 and I realized that I had not yet gotten a chance to shower. I, perhaps putting too much faith in a 5-year old, decided to go shower, with the understanding that C would "watch" his brother. I got as far as in the shower and starting to lather my hair with shampoo with the screaming began; followed by the thundering footsteps of C, SCREAMING "MOMMY!!! LIAM ATE SOMETHING OUT OF THE TOILET!!!"...soooo...I did what any mom would do..I leapt out of the shower, soap running into my eyes to see what on Earth had happened. We use those little gel sticky thingys that go into the toilet bowl to keep them clean and deodorize them...L, it seems, decided to investigate this little green blob of goodness and in doing so smeared it all over his face, his body, his hair, his clothes and apparently ate some. I know this because his breath was minty, toilet bowl fresh. After calling poison control and learning that I did not, in fact, have to have a coronary and rush him to the hospital with soap still in my hair, I turned to C and asked him "didn't I tell you to watch your brother?!?!?"...and got a reply that I never in a million years expected... "mommy I DID watch him...I watched him open the toilet, pull out the goo-ball, rub it all over and taste it...I didn't worry until he tasted it though and then I came and got you." GRRRR...really, growling was all I could muster at that point. Now, we're even shorter on time, hubby is nowhere near home, my eyes are on fire from the soap and my youngest child smells like the inside of a toilet bowl. L gets unceremoniously tossed into the shower with me and we get as clean as possible; despite my best efforts, it is now Sunday night and he STILL smells like toilet cleaner. I hop out of the shower, toss C his clothes to get ready for his show and attempt to get my hair dried and L dressed. Hair drying was no problem at all...getting L dressed, on the other hand, was not so easy. The child that typically brings me his shoes with a quizzical "go out?"... has stood his ground..."no mamma, no choos...boo boo, no choos" and despite my best efforts, I think I would have had better luck trying to wrestle with a greased piglet in my kitchen because those shoes were NOT going on his feet. We settled for the next best thing...socks and the shoes would come along for the ride. C is dressed, dad is ready, L is ready, Hubby is still absolutely nowhere to be found and it is a FIRM 5:30, so we have got to go NOW because I've decided to feed everyone at the diner so that we can get moving...except...my dog has now conspired against us being on time.
I should probably have mentioned earlier...I am an insane animal lover. My husband hates that I bring home animals consistently. Worse yet, I am on the board of advisors for our local animal shelter so sad animal stories are perpetually in my face and something is always tugging at my heart-string. Such was the case with our 8-year old chocolate lab, Sadie. We got her a few months ago and for me, she is the epitome of perfect dog; good natured, great with the kids, quiet, lovable, etc... but she, like most women, has man issues. She just doesn't trust him, so 99% of the time she will NOT go to the bathroom outside for him. For me, she typically has no problems telling me she has to go out and then subsequently doing her business. NOT today though!!! Noooooo....I'm in a rush so of course, today, at the exact moment I'm trying to herd 2 little people and one blind old man in a forward moving direction, she decided she had to poop NOW. At first it wasn't a big deal. I grabbed a paper towel with the intention of flushing the poop and we're all good...except that it clogged the toilet. So, let me paint this scene for you...2 kids dressed up in nice dress clothes, my blind father (also dressed up) milling around the foyer of my house, the powder room (just off of the foyer) has an overflowing toilet. I am standing there in a white (yes, you read that correctly) white sundress with open-toed sandals on, staring at the water beginning to overflow the toilet, knowing that there is absolutely no way I can get to the shut-off valve without getting poopy water on some part of my outfit, however, the situation is getting more dire by the second. I suck it up, shut the water off and grab the plunger with an attempt to not soil myself, while my father is screaming that the bathroom door is closed, hurry up, he has to pee, and my children are screaming because the want to go. In goes the plunger and with a sickening "glump" water goes spraying all over the walls and my legs...at which point I throw the plunger into the toilet, wash my legs in the sink and declare the score Toilet: 1, Me: 0 and figure that whenever D gets his a** home, HE can deal with it.
Out the door....only about 20 minutes late but we're out! I won't even get into the fiasco at the diner because I can't even put that into words. Cranky 2-year old and impossible old man make life miserable. No matter where I moved anything on the table it was not safe from spilling, either by L or my dad. It was hopeless, really, but, hubby did finally show up and meet us at the diner. We choked down food and I rushed C up to his show while my dad, D, & L followed behind since they didn't have to be there until the show started at 7.
On the way TO the show, C informed me in the car that "school makes me poop mom"...when I asked for clarification on that point, he embellished by saying it makes him want to poop. The only thing I can think of as a fair explanation is that either A) he thinks school is a pain in his ass or B) He's so happy about it he could shit. Sadly, I think it's the former.
Nonetheless, he did an amazing job. He sang loudly, danced joyfully and had a wonderful time. I was the proudest mommy on Earth. We took him to Rita's for Italian ices afterwards and we were all good until he said "mommy, that was fun...I would do it again...I guess I didn't need to have a tantrum all week about it"...and I wanted to jump out of the car! We passed a milestone on Friday night...he graduated from preschool and did so beautifully. Next year we ride the bus to school and we start a new phase of life!