Pooping in Peace...

I like to think this is a place where we can all be honest. I've been told that I should be careful what I post online because I never know how far it will go or who will read it- so I'm going out on a limb here. I'm just going to be real with you all. I have a little secret: Sometimes, I poop.

Don't judge me. 

If we were honest we'd all have to admit that at some time in our lives we have all done it. Ok, so now that that is out of the way, let me share my morning with you all.

I don't know what it's like in your house, but for some reason it seems that everyone here needs to "go" at the same time. So this morning, just after I finished changing Matthew's stinky diaper, Courtney headed to the potty. I thought, "Hey, I may as well go, too." So we all set out for our respective potties. As a stay-at-home mom, I rarely get to use the bathroom without some conversation or crisis, so I'm accustomed to leaving the door open so I can listen to my children. That way I know if they're getting into trouble.

So there I sat, door open, listening intently and hurrying as best I could, while Courtney kicked her potty stool from atop the toilet and Matthew hummed in the living room as he ate Fruit Loops. Suddenly things were quiet- not a good sign. Then I heard Matthew panting as he made his way on all fours to the hall bathroom, where his sister sat singing.

"What's he doing?" I yelled through the wall.

"He's just standing up and holding on to my stool." Ah, good. At least he wasn't in the trash can or touching the potty. "He's trying to get into the bathtub."

I didn't worry because I've seen him try to climb in before, to no avail. His little legs are too short and he hasn't learned how to use his toes to grip the side of the tub yet... yet.

THUNK!!

CRASH!!

"AHHHHHH!!!!"

"WHAAAAHHHHHHH!!!"

I knew immediately what had happened. Of course, there wasn't much I could do from where I sat. Courtney freaked out, screaming, "AHHH!!! HE FELL IN THE BATHTUB! HE FELL IN THE BATHTUB!!" While Matthew screamed at the top of his lungs. I sensed by his cry that he was hurt and scared, so I finished up my paperwork as quickly as I could, running to the other bathroom while trying not to trip as I pulled my jeans up around my waist, unsure of the scene I would witness as I rounded the corner to the hall bath.

There it was. Courtney sat on the toilet in tears while Matthew stood in the bathtub, also in tears. It was complete chaos. Everyone was screaming. I picked up my son and consoled his sister as she went on and on with the "why's" (of course). "Why did he fall in? Why was he trying to get in there? Why didn't you come at first? Why is he still screaming? Why? Why? Why?" 

Before long I had them both calmed down. Matthew started babbling and Courtney went on to play. Whew- no concussion. He's fine, other than a 4 inch circular bruise around his left eye from hitting a bath toy (I've attached a pic). *SIGH*

And so another day goes by where I don't get to sit on the toilet in peace... but I'll live. I'm actually rather used to it by now (although I must interject here to say thanks to my hubs who keeps the kids at bay when he's home). I just keep telling myself that the day is coming when I will once again be able to close the bathroom door and pay no attention to the outside world. I'll finally be able to poop in peace.