Sometimes all you can do is laugh. And maybe drink.

This morning I was woken by Xander at 5:30AM. He was READY to start his day. So after failed attempts of telling him to go back to his room. We did the whole "potty, day time pull-ups, Cheerios, milk and tv show" routine. Needless to say, I went back to bed. He's 3.5, he can handle sitting on the sofa, shoving his face full of Cheerios while watching Dora explore a bit. 

Of course I should have known it would be a pre-curser for how my day would 

be. 

Last night I realized my one of my new cockerels/roosters was missing. The one I was really excited about. Brownie was an Easter Egger rooster. Which meant his breed lays blue and green eggs. Which meant, me crossing him with my females, meant fertilized eggs to be sold, and or hatched. So this morning I did an official head count and realized 4 other females had ran off and disappeared with him also.  

Upon further search and letting the dogs hunt around for signs. I discovered signs that Brownie is most likely no longer with us. But only him. So I'm still hoping the other 4 females who decided to have a wild night off in the woods with him eventually return. 

By this time of mid morning (around 9:30am) Xander was already spiraling. He was tired, and meltdowns were occurring. So I sent his butt to bed, which also meant I was missing my gym reservation at kids club of 10am. - oh goody, another plan thwarted by the toddler terrorists. 

So at 10am, Atticus went down for a nap also. And like clock work was up at 12pm to eat lunch. (The kid just eats and eats and eats). So mid chowing down on his lunch of blueberries, chicken, and pirates booty, his face starts turning bright red.

Oh no,

This isn't good,

All parents know this sign, it never ends well.

CODE BROWN!!!!

I repeat,

CODE BROWN!!!!!

Then it happened. 

The explosion.

 The OMG moment of destruction that even makes veteran diaper changers scream.

Atticus has talent. And by talent, I mean he somehow managed to poop so hard and so much he propelled crap up his diaper, up his belly, and up his chest, it was in his neck folds. But yet not a single bit down either leg. I'm not sure how this talent will be beneficial, but it's a skill none the less. 

This of course warrented an immediate, straight to the bathtub drill. Do not stop, do not detour at the changing table, do not let the child have use of his hands, and what ever you do, do not let it get on the furniture! 

So once I plopped his stinky little self in the tub, I stripped him of his clothes. And moms know it's an acquired and practice skill to removed poop covered clothes over your child's face without it getting on his face.

 If there are levels of this skill, mine is at ninja level. My children love to poop, in nightmare horrish ways, do they love to poop through their diapers and on their clothes. 

Once the clothes were deposited right into the washing machine, the sad excuse for a diaper was disposed of a also.  Atticus was hosed down for initial cleansing, and once that stage was complete, we then carried on with playing and soaking in the tub stage. 

Look, he's so proud of himself. He got an extra bath in. Water playtime all by himself while his brother sleeps. (Or plans up what to drive momma crazy with next) 

But like my blog title said, all you can do is laugh. 

Because, let's be honest. 

Shit Happens.

Literally. 

I mean, it happens a lot. And you can't get worked up over it, you can't meltdown and think the end is near. (Even though glimpses of "death by poop smells" came to mind while I was hosing Atticus off.) You can't keep it bottled up inside, you just have to "let it go" and laugh. (Yes I've been watching to much of Frozen.) 

No, but seriously, we must laugh. We have to laugh, because how else do we go on?

Oh yeah, there is that thing called alcohol. Okay, so maybe some rum, or wine helps too. But you still need to laugh, daily. And mostly at yourself.