A Literal Labor Day

Happy Belated  Labor Day!  A three day farewell to summer filled with barbecues, pool parties,and poop, don't forget the poop. Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but here at the Walker house, while other families are choosing to sleep past their normal weekday wakeup time before lazily starting their day, we are up with the sun, cleaning ground in poop off wood floors and toilet seats, while Cam sits in a bathtub of murky water, oblivious to the fact that little flakes of feces are floating all around her.Yes my friends,that is how we kick off Labor Day weekend around here.
Of course, Brad and I had other plans for Saturday morning, first one being trying really, really hard to sleep in. Nothing extravagant, maybe 7:30, do we dare dream of 8:00? Then maybe out to breakfast or at least breakfast brought in with the kids. Something a little extra special to kick off the holiday weekend.
Now when I say sleep in, I mean stay in bed, because Camryn does not sleep in....ever. She gets up around 7:00, opens her door, stands at the babygate, talks about Ry-ry,and yells out "I need help!" so we will open her gate. This is when Brad and I assume our literal undercover positions and stay completely silent, as even the slightest sound will elicit a scream from Camryn that she wants out. We breathe only when absolutely necessary and after a tense five minutes or so, we hear Cams feet pounding back to her bed, which means she will lay there and talk to herself for another 30 minutes or so, and we will definitely take it! But this year Cams mistook Labor Day for it's literal interpretation and decided to put us to work right away, you know get the party started early. I heard her say "Poop" about 6:55 a.m., and I knew when Cam says poop, it usually means there is some in the near vicinity. Against my better judgement, I chose to ignore it. At about ten after seven, Natalie comes running into our room and delivers a message that Camryn has pooped all over her room. "It's everywhere! I saw it!" she exclaimed. I pulled the covers off from over my head and one sniff confirmed Natalies story, poop was in the air.
Brad was first to arrive "on the scene".  "Awwww %&*#!" Oh this was going to be bad. Four letter words don't float freely around our house. In fact, we try really hard to filter what we say, even banning the words"stupid" and "shut up". But on occasion, this being one of them, try as we might one escapes and goes directly from our lips to Cam's brain, where it is stored in a little section labeled "Words to Shout Out in Church."
I heard the gate click open and Cams feet pounding through the house. Brad was yelling "Nooooo" as she proceeded to leave a trail of poopy footprints in her path. He managed to grab her, but not without getting his hands dirty and wrangled her into the tub. By this point I was up making my way to survey the damage. Wow, I've seen a lot of poop in my nine and a half years of motherhood. Poop in diapers, poop on cribs and poop used as body paint. But when a seven and half year old child has a bowel movement on their floor and then steps in it, smears it, wipes it... there are no words. Toys and books that happened to be in her path were now smudged with poo. And I don't know about you, but if something gets poop on it, unless it's like a family heirloom, I am not trying to salvage it. I don't care how cute it was or how much fun they had with it. No, if it's been pooped on consider it gone. So while Brad is trying to scrub Camryn down, I get out the old mop and bucket and start bleaching the heck out of the floor. Meanwhile Nat and Mace have been confined to their room,and are sitting on their beds watching the whole ordeal. Oh the childhood memories they will have! I can hear Brad telling Camryn to sit down and Camryn is fussing, yelling "Let me get the poop off honey!" I love my husband. I finish Cams room and follow the trail of poop prints to the bathroom, where I am then greeted with a toilet seat covered in nearly dried pasty poop. Apparently Camryn tried to use the toilet after the fact. It is only 7:30 by this time and Brad and I are operating on a very empty stomach, which can be good and bad. I really could have used some coffee though. Brad gets Cam out of the bath and I wipe down the last of the affected areas. It is now 8:00 a.m. Saturday morning, the first day of our holiday weekend and we had already anti-bacterialed, hand sanitized, and deodorized every inch of the house and ourselves. Cam was oblivious,sitting on the couch with a Tootsie pop watching Oobi. When Mom and Dad wake up like this, a nutritious breakfast is probably not going to happen, which is fine with the kids. I had been dreaming about a nice fluffy omelet or hot stack of pancakes, but after that mess I opted to wait for lunch. I looked at Brad, sipping his coffee and told him I was going back to bed. I shut my door, closed the blinds and crawled back under the covers. What else would you expect me to do? I was pooped! ;)