Shit or get off the pot

I was an hour late for work this morning. Why, you ask? Because my son was sitting on the toilet.

My husband usually takes the kids to school and I pick them up but today he wanted to take his parents to the airport so we switched. Big mistake. They're just used to him dropping off and me picking up so when it's reversed, it's like the earth is suddenly spinning in the other direction. All is undone.

It didn't help that my son woke up late since he was up half the night for various reasons. He had to go poo poo. He lost his kitty. The stickers came off his hands. At one point I literally told him to get a grip (in response to the stickers coming off his hands). That actually seemed to work and he went back to his room and fell back asleep.

So he woke up late and my daughter's been a little unwell. It started when we switched her to milk a week before her first birthday (which was Friday!) and she started having a little bit of the runs. It was just half milk half formula, but something was not quite right. And then she spent half the night barfing after her first birthday party, likely having to do with the yellow cake and chocolate frosting cupcake she gobbled. We finally decided to take her off milk for a little while to see if her stomach would settle before we reintroduce. She may also have a stomach bug. Who the hell knows because my mother-in-law was also barfing the day before she left. Maybe it's my cooking? Nah.

And as much as I could I hurried my son along so that I could get to work by 9:00. But he wasn't much interested in breakfast and kept complaining that he had a tummy ache. So I sat him on the toilet and he spent about twenty minutes taking a dump. Indeed he got a lot of it out. So I wiped him, washed hands, flushed and got him into his clothes. My daughter by now is beside herself. She's also teething which doesn't help but she just could not stop crying, even when I was holding her. So my policy is that if they cry even when you're rocking and holding them, then why bother? Put 'em down. So I did and she went back to sleep. My son then asked again to sit on the potty. So he sat for another twenty minutes, this time with no output. I was starting to get annoyed because it was clear that I was going to be late for work. He finally hopped off, I woke up the baby and just as we were all ready to go, he grimaced and told me his belly hurt him and he needed to make a poo poo. So back he went on the potty. By now my daughter is awake and disoriented. She was gnawing on her own hand when, transformed into a rabid dog, she took a big bite out of my shoulder. Easy Dracula! I jumped and yelled NO! which totally startled her so she made the boo boo face and started crying again. And still my son is sitting dangle-footed on the pot. I told him to hurry it up but that made him cry. So I apologized. By the end of his session he'd been sitting on the toilet for 45 minutes. I mean, put me on a toilet for 45 minutes and I'll show you a hemorrhoid the size of a lemon. I have a feeling he had a sour belly and was just nervous about going to school for fear of having to do his business there. I totally get that, except that the toilets at his school are tiny and adorable. For toilets I mean.

We did finally manage to get out of the house and drop off was thankfully uneventful. But by the time I got to work I was exhausted. And depressed for having had to rush my son off the toilet, knowing that he had a belly ache, so that I could get to work. That sucks. Work sucks.