I'm frustrated. I grab the phone and go outside. Mail...I'll check the mail. That's what I'll do. Just get me out of here.
When I'm done I sit on the front lawn and call Rob at work.
"How are you?" he says.
"I have wiped bums over 40 times today and ___________ (we will call him child XYZ) has pooped in his pants three times in the last 45 minutes. I swear, I'm gonna scream."
"So what are you gonna do?"
"I told him he had to put on a pull up and would have to pay me for every one of them he poops in. And...HE'S UPSET with me because I wont let him go outside and jump on the trampoline (do you blame me?...visions of poop...eveRYwhere)."
Just then another child comes out and says, "Mom...I have to go poop."
Rob starts laughing. CASE. IN. POINT!
Can we say probiotics....HELLO! (which I have already administered)
If only that was that.
While I am sitting here typing child XYZ comes in from playing outside and says, "Mom, were you REALLY serious about me having to pay you for the pull-ups?"
"DID YOU POOP IN YOUR PANTS AGAIN!?!?"
I put him on a potty time out. "Just stay there for a while," I said.
I'm leaving for an undisclosed amount of time as soon as Rob gets home.