Poop patrol

I am officially on Poop watch 2011. Shelby has decided that being cute wasn't enough so she's added some naughty in as well to stir the pot a bit.

Last night my husband was working late and so I was home with all the kiddos. Since it's apparently inappropriate to drink away their cries I tried my best to appease them all the minute each one needed something (which is every min). In the midst of this controlled chaos Miss Shelby decided she didn't just like wearing pearls she wanted to eat one as well.

I tried very hard to retrieve said item to no avail. It also took every bit of my mothering mite to not overact, run down the street screaming in horror and call the fire department (they prefer to only be called for "emergencies" I'm told). Needless to say when there is an emergency in our house I'm not usually the person everyone runs to for help. In fact unless the place is on fire and I'm sleeping they usually try to not even alert me to any danger or potential disaster. Supposedly you are an "overreactor" if you know the fire department call dispatchers by name.

Anywho, I did give my husband a very frantic call and tried my best not to harm him when he did finally return home from work and then refused to take a non choking, breathing perfectly, child to the er after working all day(I swear).

Being a bit more mature (we'll say) I rationally decided that she must not be slowly dying from the inanimate object lodged in her chest and she should soon pass said inanimate object. (btw spelling inanimate object was quite a challenge).


Because I still am fairly irrational I did wake every hour last night to check if she was breathing, she was, so was my husband who did not enjoy the hourly wakings. If you're wondering you may be more inclined to let your kids play in the street once you have enough for your own basketball team but irrational fears always rear their ugly head.

After giving Shelby as much fiber filled foods as I possibly could today she did finally poop. No pearl amidst that jewel of a diaper but there's still tomorrow. As I look back on my childhood and my hope of motherhood I do not recall ever imagining opening a diamond and searching for jewelery as a real selling point of the job.

I do think this is a rather metaphorical story in that some days it feels like I am looking through a big pile of poop for the jewel that gets me through till tomorrow...and hopefully tomorrow I'll find it.