I’ve been neglecting this blog a bit. There are a few factors.
For starters, my child has been uncharacteristically easy lately. He seems to have developed a penchant for naps that exceed 45 minutes in length, hasn’t bitten anyone in months, and his tantrums have mellowed into something that would best be described as “episodes”. I’m low on material.
Furthermore, I’ve been doing some writing for a parenting website/information database that a friend is developing (as soon as it’s up and running, consider yourselves linked) that’s requiring me to do all kinds of geeky research that I love. The problem with research, of course, is the internet, and the seemingly endless reserves of tangents it provides. What can I say. I’m easily distracted.
On top of all that John is away and will be for the next two weeks, leaving me in full single-parent mode (a post on the medals that those people deserve coming soon) and without much time for writing.
But tonight, inspiration struck.
I had just taken Callum out of the tub and was letting him do some air drying while I prepared his bottle. The child had been bare-assed for a total of 17 seconds when I realized that he had defecated on the carpet. And it was messy. And he had stepped in it. And he was running around like a drunken Ewok throughout the house.
I had to wrangle him back into the bathroom for another scrub down, all the while trying desperately to avoid the remarkably strong leg kicks that were directing the smushed turds all over me.
Once I completed that delightful task, I realized that I too had stepped in the poop (I was wearing socks so it took me a while to notice) and had thus contributed to what was now escalating into a full fledge sh-t storm.
The house we rent, you see, was last decorated in the mid-80s, when carpet was still de rigueur. We have carpet everywhere except the kitchen and bathroom, and there was even carpet in there (nasty) until we moved in. So there were little (and big, thanks to my contribution) footprints of sh-t everywhere. I had a major job on my hands, and once I finished it, I had very little left to put into a witty blog post. But I do have some helpful household tips about de-pooping your rug. And that’s why you visit this blog, right? For helpful tips!
Here you go:
- Hope it’s a relatively solid movement and scoop it up with a plastic bag. Flush.
- Wash area with warm soapy rag. Make sure that the rag is one that you won’t mind not seeing ever again.
- Sprinkle with baking soda, let sit, and scrub gently again.
- Apply whatever you have in your cupboard with skulls, crossbones, and corroded hands on the label. Scrub again.
- Fantasize about hardwood floors, and seriously consider wall-to-wall linoleum and a hose attachment on every faucet as a future decorating option.



Very funny and not at the same time. But I can say I’ve been there. These things seem to always happen when husbands are away.
I would laugh, but that would just be cruel. Palesa was naked in our yard the other day and then we heard the tell-tale grunt. Luckily, it was solid. And outside. Not nearly as tough to clean up…
I think I might send Callum a shirt that says “Support our poops”. hee hee.
Just think, if you had a dog, she could eat it! Yes, it’s true. Sadie cleaned up R’s poop off the floor. It was a great day.
Less work for Mom! Yay! Yuck!