The Shituation… pun intended.

Crap got real the first couple weeks at the Gray household. I have heard many people talk about how the children might regress and could have some interesting behaviors with moving into yet another home. These stories I am about to tell you are prrrrettttyy crappy!

About two weeks ago I hear knocking on the upstairs door where the twins have their bedroom. (We have a bell that chimes when the twins open their door so we know when they are up, but they choose to knock instead). That morning I drug myself out of bed to head upstairs and as soon I do I hear X1 say “Momma, Momma X2 pooped in my room, he pooped in my room!”. At that moment, I thought I should just turn around and go straight back to bed but I had to deal with what was inevitably looming behind the door, CRAP! I open the door and there are both of my twins, X1 is freaking out right in front of me, thoroughly disgusted, X2 is buck naked and covered head to toe in his own excrement! Not only is he covered but so is his room. Everywhere I look there is poop smeared, it was the whole length of the carpet, on his bean bag, on his bed, and somehow at the very top of their wardrobe. Keep in mind they both still wear pull-ups at night and his pull-up was perfectly clean. To top things off I have a very week stomach so throughout this whole process I am having run and make a break for it. I went up and down the stairs to go outside to get some fresh air multiple times. It was Treys first day back to work, and I was already overwhelmingly emotional, of course this would happen. I went back up and picked up X2 and carried his poopy self to the tub. I mean he had it ALL over him, in his hair, in his ears, all over his face, in between his toes and fingers. I. LOST. IT. I couldn’t deal with myself and I certainly couldn’t deal with the shituation. So, I did what every grown woman would do… I called my Momma! 

The following week, also when Trey was at work, X1 was is in our sunroom in quite time. He comes out and looks guilty and I  knew something was fishy! “X1 what did you do” he just looks at me and freezes, (I learned that freezing is common symptom of children that have gone through trauma, they use it as a defense mechanism). When he froze I knew for sure he was up to no good and I could sense what he’d done, “X1 did you poop in the sunroom?” X1, stares at me blankly and then says “I had to poop weally bad”. (The bathroom is right around the corner). Now, the next task is to find the scene of the crime. I couldn’t for the life of me find it. If you are thinking it would be easy to find because your nose would lead you right to it, you would be wrong. There was NO smell. I go to him and say, “you’re going to have to show me where it is.” Blank stare. “X1 you have got to show me!” Then he points to the toy box that is shut and latched. I had him open it and still nothing… suddenly there it was, the unmistakable smell, poop was for sure there but nowhere to be seen! Then he moved around the toys and once again… I made a break for it! I ran outside and stood behind the glass door and gave my instructions of what to do. I couldn’t handle this again, and you would think that X1 being so disgusted by his brother in the previous week that he would be last to reenact this sort of incident. I mustard up the gull to make it back to the sunroom to deal with the shituation and noticed that my son this whole time had a chunk of poop on his head.

*Here is a little bit of a back story. All three of my children think it is hilarious to call one another anything that deals with poop. Their most beloved phrase is to call each other is a “poopy head”. I am sure that doesn’t shock or surprise most anyone who has been around little boys. I however strongly disapproved of the name calling but there is only so much you can do to stop it. When you finally get one to stop then there are two others waiting and ready to spout it out just to get a rise. Once one says it they are all in on it!

Me: “X1 you have poop on your head”
X1: “Momma don’t call me a poopy head!”
Me: “I am not, but you literally have poop on your head! So, I guess that does make you a poopy head”
My child found no amusement in this and was very upset to realize that he was now a poopy head.

Of course, I again called my Momma not knowing exactly what to do! Both times my Mom was out of town so she just provided moral support and listened to her sobbing daughter losing her mind on the other side of the phone. She gave me words of encouragement and felt pretty bad for me and the kids. When I am in the thick of the crazy I can so easily forget what my children have gone through and the traumas that are still very real for them. I forget that they are still raw and are in need of healing. It’s something my mom reminds me of each time I give her a call, which is a lot, and is probably the reason I call. She also tells me I need to, in her words, “to put my big girl pants on and deal!” I also need that too. We haven’t had any more of those incidents in the recent weeks and I am very much hoping that those have passed but, if they do come again life will go on and with each passing day my boys will start to heal.

** In case you were wondering in the weeks past they no longer use the term “poopy head” and for that I am grateful. Instead they a have moved on to a more sophisticated term such as “pee-pee head”.

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