Last night, I tucked the kids into bed and sat down to work on my little blogging job. It was taking a bit more concentration than usual because it had just been one of those days. Nothing major had happened, but a lot of minor inconveniences and some crazy kids was enough. I was trying to get myself in a better, more positive frame of mind in order to write something a bit more uplifting than "I'm tired of the craziness, blah, blah, blah."
Before I even had a chance to get the computer fully started, my son was at my side. I looked him over and didn't see any blood and he looked perfectly fine. I decided there was absolutely NO reason he should be out of bed.
Apparently my observational skills were a bit weak because the poor kid was not wearing his pants or his night time diaper. Hmmm.
He laid down on the floor while I helped him get the diaper fastened. Meanwhile, I told him that I would not be coming back upstairs to tuck him in yet once more. In the middle of this little lecture, I shrieked.
My son had poo on his leg! He had clearly had taken care of the potty business, but no so much the wiping thing.
The funny thing is, rather than make me frustrated and think there was no way I could be in a positive mindset now, it just made me laugh a bit.
In this parenting thing, it is always something. Yet, that something is so often a wonderful thing, that I might as well shrug off as much of the unpleasantness as possible.
As I write this, all three of my children are playing "clubhouse." They are sharing and using their wonderful imaginations. It is a joy to watch. Moments like this just might make up for the chaos and amounts of bodily fluid or sticky hand residue I seem to always be cleaning off of something!
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