I Do NOT Get Paid Enough for this Sh!t

Have you heard this before once or twice? Well, in an effort not to sound too much like Dr. Phil in reference to mommy-hood as a profession, I will simply replay the wonderful evening I had with my boys and you can judge what I should be paid for this.



Note: Husband is thousands of miles away for the weekend hanging out with his buddies for work.



I'm rolling around on the floor with my 3 youngest hoodlums after their baths (I know, eww, dirty floor, clean kids, but oh well.) Baby is tackling me, laughing hysterically. Twins are playing their Leapsters trying to avoid my tickle fingers. Dog is trying to join in the fun.
"Did someone poop?" I smell poop, I KNOW I smell poop (as only a mom of 4 toddlers knows the smell.)
Nooooo!! all three shiny-clean, innocent faces chime together.
"Owen, you pooped, didn't you?"
No. I dinnent poop!
"Yes you did, I can SMELL it." (yes, I know the difference between the SMELLS of their poops. This didn't smell familiar, which usually means it's Owen - you don't want to know...)
No. I dinnent. See! He kindly turns around and sticks his butt in my face. I take a niiiice deeep inhale. (again - only a mom!) Nothing.
Huh. Emmett? "Did you poop Emmett?" (Baby)
Yethhhh. I boop!! Another sniff... Nothing. Little Turkey. Collin??
"Did YOU poop?"
No answer.
I sniff him... Still nothing.
{Enter Dog.}
"Gross!!! Get away from us, you smell like poop!!!" I check her out. She does smell like poop, KID poop, but I see nothing on her. I shoo her away and continue playing.

After a while, I realize that the oldest hasn't come down from his nap yet and it's 7 o'clock. I'd better wake him up. I go up the stairs. Is that dumb dog following me?? Pew!

...And there it is... at the top of the stairs... a crumpled up pair of underwear smooshed into the floor, and a path of poo... all the way down the hallway from the bathroom... all over the bathroom floor leading to a pair of pants... all over the toilet.

"JAKE?!?!?!"

No answer.
I look in his room. He's not there. I walk back down the hallway, trying to sidestep around the brown streak on the floor, over the underwear into my room. There is my little angel. Sitting on my bed playing his Leapster.
"I was sleeping and I pooped in my sleep!" He says eyes wide, brimming with tears, not sure if he needs to full-on cry to make this more convincing...
He needs to go straight to the bathtub. I take him to mine, it's closer... I stop dead.
Poop.
All over the bathtub.
MY bathtub!

Thus began my loooong evening of scrubbing bathrooms and steam-cleaning carpets. This is AFTER a long day at work (which is actually a long BREAK from my real job!) The only plus side is, I HAD to earn some activity points lugging that huge carpet cleaner up and down 2 flights of stairs and up & down hallways (of course, I had to do a once-over of each of their rooms while I had it up there!) Not to mention all the loads of laundry created by this little fiasco. Now if I could just figure out where that URINE smell is coming from in the living room...

Good grief!! If they weren't so damn CUTE, I'd have to QUIT!