Monday Mornings

You know... I probably like Monday Mornings more than most people. Because I don't just like them- I love them. I love the start of a new week. I always feel so refreshed after a weekend of fun with my family. I'm ready to start the week off strong- get laundry done, pick up after a weekend of playing and resting. (I think most families work on the weekend 'Saturday chores' or something. We don't. We try to get our work done during the week so we can enjoy the weekend together. And I know working together is important but we live in Hawaii and sometimes you have to take advantage of that on weekends. We are too busy during the week.) Anyway- I am not sure why I felt I had to justify our playing on weekends. :0) It's fun.

But that leaves my job cut out for me on Mondays. Lots of rooms need to be re-claimed.

This Monday was no exception. I woke up early- started my day off right- reading scriptures, made breakfast for the fellas. I even ironed my husbands shirt for him! I mean- really. I was on a roll!

Then my oldest reminds me he is suppose to bring his "invention" to school today. He invented "cheese bacon" and of course we don't have any bacon. So I agree to run to the store while everyone has breakfast so we can make his cheese bacon to take to school.

When I get back- the house STINKS, my husband is hacking and baby is in the bathtub. (I hear the water running).

That can mean only one thing.....

HEATH- How can someone so cute cause so much mischief!

My suspicions are correct. Heath woke up with a poopy diaper- and while the boys & my husband were downstairs eating breakfast, he took care of the problem himself.

I figure- it is better if I don't even look. I don't want to ruin a good morning send off- by seeing the work that lies ahead of me once my family is off to school. So I hurry- make the cheese bacon, my husband who is already late- apologizes and gives me a peck on the cheek while he runs out the door. I drive the kids to school so they won't be late and I am left with a scavenger hunt of poop on my hands.

 

 

Poopy footprints lead me up the stairs to his bedroom

 

 

Poopy finger prints on his door.

 

 

 

To a plop of poop on his pillow.

After following my nose- I found more prints in the playroom, poop on our futon, in the living room, on our couch.... what a mess!

Guess whose renting the Carpet Doctor from the grocery store today.

Have you ever read this poem?

"Sometimes you get discouraged because I am so small...

and always leave my fingerprints on furniture and walls

But every day I'm growing

I'll be all grown some day

and all those tiny hand prints will surely fade away

so here's a little hand print

just so you can recall

Exactly how my fingers looked

when I was very small."

The first time I read that poem as a new mother- I didn't know the footprints and hand prints were going to be poop.

Laura