Happy Fourth everybody! It would seem that we are still in the phase of life during which our kids are wiped out and asleep by 9pm when fireworks get going. Last year Noah buried his head on me, held my hands to his hears and cried during the fireworks show; this year we decided to have a mellow and fun evening with friends and let the kids go to bed at a normal hour.
We joined our friends Andrea & Todd (and their boys) and Sharri & Bob (and their kids) for a BBQ, some swimming, and relaxing. Well, relaxing was the plan. And it happened eventually, but before that, we had a big mess to deal with. I relate this story in part so that nobody thinks life for the four of us is perfect or that we have perfect kids or that we don't ever seem to deal with setbacks and messes. I hope I don't give that impression--but lots of my posts are written when I am cheerful or otherwise feeling proud or loving. I relate this also in part because I don't have a journal and I want to remember some of these ridiculous moments too.
So we arrive at our friends' lovely home and everyone runs off to play or chat or cook or drink sangria. Noah heads straight for the den with the awesome collection of legos and trucks. Before heading to the kitchen to join the grown-ups, I said to Noah "Sweetie, if you need to go potty, you have to use the bathroom. It is right here. Do you see the potty? OK. Do not tee tee or poop in your pants. Understand?" I said this to him because we've had a few accidents at home of late, despite Noah being potty trained for quite some time. Anyway, fast forward 15 minutes. Noah has been quiet (not unusual especially if he is playing with new toys), and I decide to check on him. I knew it the moment I saw the look on his face. Noah had pooped in his (white, clean) pants.
Not 20 minutes into the party and I am cleaning up my wailing kid in the bathroom as five other kids are listening at the door and wondering what I am doing to the poor kid. They should have been wondering what he was doing to me. Now, this poop was not a friendly, easy, just shake it out of the undies into the potty kind of poop. It was voluminous, stinky, and fully blown out of his undies. Matthew got the unsavory job of running the clothing outside to be hosed off. He returned to me and said "that was an epic poop." "Yes, it was," I said as I finished bathing a naked Noah in our friends' marble sink and tried to let compassion win over frustration and anger with my kid, who clearly was embarrassed and sad. Well, he recovered. No more accidents after that. He played, swam, ate, and played some more. We borrowed clothes and made the best of it. And our friends laughed the whole thing off without a second thought.
Sigh. Well, the kids are asleep, Matty and I got to enjoy eating some leftover peach cake that he made--from scratch, of course (DELICIOUS!!!), and--now the part that makes you think we really are some kind of 50's TV family--the evening ended with my sweet husband watching a movie with me while helping me baste a quilt with hundreds of safety pins. Not kidding. He knew I wasn't looking forward to it and offered to help. How sweet is that? So no traditional fireworks this fourth of July, but still plenty of spectacular moments.
