It was bound to happen at some point...

Poop. In the unna-wears. In a hot parking lot. With no plastic bags with which to contain the teeny tiny tinkerbell panties full of POOP.

And why can't I have a decent blog entry that does not have me cleaning up POOP?!?!

Stella started Summer Camp this week at the pre-school she will be attending the fall. Can I just say I LOVE SUMMER CAMP. And she loves it too. Which is most important...but I sure do love my 3 hours of alone time every morning.

The first day, Mom went with me and we dropped off the girl and of course I had a short crying moment but it wasn't too bad. Mom treated me to an iced coffee at Starbucks and then we ran a couple errands at Michael's and Trader Joe's.

Here she is before we left the house:


And when we drop them off, we really DROP THEM OFF. The teacher gets them out of the car and puts them back in later! It's a pretty sweet assembly line!


The second day, I went by myself and had another small crying moment. (Unsolicited advice: NEVER look in the rearview after you drop your kid off because you will see their cute little self carrying their polka dotted monogrammed lunchbag up the long sidewalk into the building; with her little ponytail bouncing and her teeny little tennis shoes and.... you get my point.) After that drop-off, I came straight home and cleaned the house really, really good. I mean scrubbed-the-shower-and-mopped-the-kitchen-floor good.

The third day? I was all up in Barnes and Nobles for 3 hours with a new book and a soy latte!!!! Now, that's more like it!

The third day felt so good I did it again on the fourth day (today)! But today I got my latte through the drive-thru and went to the Dumbarton library. Uh, I think I'll go back to B&N next time. The people there are less...strange.

Next week, I will use the time to get back in the gym. I have taken a hiatus this week for some reason... just not into it. I think I needed a mental and physical break (see previous post) but I'm ready to get back and get moving. The book I have been reading the past 2 days is "The Complete Beck Diet for Life" and I swear this lady wrote this book for me. I'll go into more detail at another time and after I have more time to actually practice the techniques. But it sure is making sense.

ANYWAY, back to the poop!! I know you are dying to hear!

I picked Stella up from camp today and we drove immediately to Feathernester's for lunch. (Which reminds me - didn't I have an incident in the Feathernester's parking lot last week? Overhearing a conversation involving a Machete?)

I go to get Stella out of her carseat and a putrid smell wafts up my nose and NO WAY is that MY child. I mean, she has NEVER had a poop incident in her "unna-wears!" There must be dog poop on my shoe or something - so I check my shoes - and they are clean... But she's so particular these days about having to be changed IMMEDIATELY if she pees even a squirt in her pants... no way would she be sitting on a giant turd and not tell me or her teachers?!?!

Wrong.

I stand her up in the parking lot and take a peak down the back of her pants. (Mothers, can you feel me?) And I see the giant ball of poop. Just so happens I was also on the phone with one of my old bosses who is in town and wanted to have dinner. I told him I was "so upset but I can't meet because I am going to see the Indigo Girls tonight at Lewis Ginter and AHHHHHHHH! Uh Wayne, I've gotta go. Stella's had an accident."

Little did he know.

Did you know that it's really damn hard to pull down shorts AND teeny tiny underwear full of poop and get them off of your child while she is wearing tennis shoes?

I manage to get them both off with just one little smear of poop on the back of her calf. So, 90% success, I'd say. Luckily, I carry TWO sets of clothes in the car so we were covered there. I wipe her up real good and get her new underwear and shorts on.

Now...what to do with the pile of poop in the underwear? Surely there are trashcans in front of the stores along this strip on the way to Feathernesters.

Well, surely NOT.

I start to panic a bit wondering where in the world am I going to put this load? NOT back in my car. I was about to toss it in the middle of Lakeside Avenue (not really - but the thought did cross my mind) when I saw a lone trashcan amoungst all of the GORGEOUS plants and statues and decorations on Feathernester's porch area.

I put the "package" in the can but it was rather full so it was on top. I couldn't push it down in there under stuff because it had one of those swinging lids and...well, the logistics weren't good. I'll just put it that way. So I left the load on top and walked into the shop, feeling SOOOOO sorry for the poor gay man who was going to take that top off the can to change the bag and see the worst Tinkerbell scene imaginable! Can you hear his screams now? I can.

We walked into Feathernester's and our party was already at the table. It was the same group from last week with the addition of some family friends. I sat down and tried to read the menu but the guilt was palpable. I couldn't even concentrate. How could I do that to my favorite little shop? My Birdcage shop owners (AKA 2 fabulous gay men?) I was just envisioning them walking out at the end of the day to clean up the patio and turn the "Open" sign to "Closed" and being knocked out by the poop stench that had been cooking in the hot trash can for hours.

I got up and went to the counter and asked one of the owners if I could have a little plastic bag because of a "diaper incident."

I didn't go into details.

So the "suprise" is still in the can, but atleast it's wrapped in plastic now. And I thoroughly enjoyed my lunch.

And I must go now because Stella just got up from her nap. She still wears a pull-up for naptime and bedtime and THANK GOD because I kid you not - she just yelled from her room:

"Mama, I got poops!"