that's not chocolate

I think I'm going to tell this story any time I hear, "I want twins."

Let me set the scene.  I take a walk with the boys every night.  And when we get back from our walk the boys go in the playroom and I get bottles put together and I also take the dogs outside and feed them dinner.  Then the boys and I play for a bit before we head upstairs for baths and bedtime.  Well tonight I decided to change it up a bit because Alex was being a fussy butt. 

I had just finished making bottles and taken the dogs outside.  Yep.  That part is important.  The dogs went outside.  I walked around the backyard for 10 minutes.  That was plenty of time for any four legged creature to do his or her business.  (Can you tell where we are going with this story?)  I fed the dogs when we got back in the house.  It was at this point Alex started screaming his head off.  He does this now because he doesn't want to be in the playroom.  He wants to be out in the kitchen and the family room so he can explore.  No big deal.  We have childproofed all the rooms.  Leo was not finished eating yet (he is the world's slowest eater) and I was tired of hearing Alex scream his head off so I put Leo's bowl of food on the kitchen table (mistake #1) and I let the boys out into the kitchen (mistake #2).  The boys are crawling around the kitchen and actually being very well behaved when I hear my phone go off.  I walk over to check the text message (go ahead and roll your eyes and tell me you have never checked your phone when your kids were around) (mistake #3).  I turn around after 5 seconds and Gretel is on top of the kitchen table eating Leo's leftover food.  Yep.  She is standing on top of the table.  I proceed to yell very, very loud for her to get her a** off of the table (again go ahead and roll your eyes and tell me you have never cussed in front of your children).  Of course this sends Gretel into a panic (and pisses her off) and off she runs to the corner of the family room.  I decide to just take Leo down to the basement and have him finish his dinner (mistake #4).  I leave the boys upstairs for the 10 seconds it takes me to run downstairs (mistake #5).  And then it happens.  And believe me when I say it all happened in slow motion.  I come back up the stairs and I think to myself, "What is all over the carpet? And why does Alex have chocolate in his hands. .... Holy Sh*t!  That is not chocolate!"  Yep.  Gretel went over to the corner of the family room and dropped a load.  And who was right behind her to investigate this magical gift in our family room other than my curious 1 year old son Alex.  I immediately scoop up both boys who are now crying hysterically and run them into the playroom.  I grab the baby wipes and just start going to town on Alex.  All his clothes come off and I start wiping him down all the while freaking out that he ate the poop.  I seriously start imagining every awful disease that he is now going to get.  I'm at this for about 30 seconds when I think to myself, "It's too quiet.  Where did Jakob go?" .... Yep.  Jakob has managed to escape back to the family room because in my haste (and while I was carrying 40lbs of baby) I forgot to put the safety latch on the baby gate.  And we all know Jakob can break out of prison in 5 seconds flat.  So I turn around and sprint back to the family room and manage to scoop Jakob up about 3 inches away from the poop that is now smeared all over my family room carpet.  We head back to the playroom where Alex is now playing with all the poop covered wipes that I had left sitting on the floor when I ran out to get Jakob.  It was at that point I sat down in the middle of the playroom and just gave up!!

So who still wants twin boys?? 

Mary

Note: My sister-in-law (a pediatrician) reassured me that the boys are probably not going to die from ingesting dog poop.