August 8, 2008 | Mama Smith

candles in august

Even though the temp will probably reach an insane 100+ degrees today (this I did not bargain for in moving southward last fall) a clump of candles sit glowing in each room. The kitchen, the den, the back of the toilet.

No, there is not a romantic escapade planned for Matthew and I, rather the candles are my lame attempt to mask the foul odor of poop wafting through our home.

Brighton is going on week 2 of no poo. After trying our best to help out the guy using all kinds of foulness they sell at the drugstore, the doctor has ordered me to stay home, keep B on the couch and pumped adult portions of laxative into his juice every 30 minutes. The Miralax Cleanse, she called it. Which has caused many tears, horrible abdominal cramping, and diapers and diapers of explosive poo.

I’m renaming minismith, the Pooping Blog, since that seems to be a major thread woven through my posts lately.

Needless to say, we’re having a pretty crummy day. After a really emotionally tough week. All the while welcoming my parents who just arrived from London to “enjoy” some time with us. Welcome to the insanity of the Smith household, parents!

We have enjoyed moments since their arrival though. Grilling. Eating ice cream cones on the front porch. Watching Project Runway. And the boys can’t seem to get enough of their Mimi and Hee-yah. And I don’t know what I would have done without their help during all this.

Next week is Dad’s birthday, Brighton’s 3rd birthday and Matthew’s 30th coming up on the 19th, so celebration is in the air. Tomorrow (if B is good an cleared out by then) Matthew and I are escaping to Asheville for the day/night to celebrate his becoming an old man of 30. Hopefully we’ll get a much needed rest from all this craziness. Or maybe I need to just accept the fact that this is just how life goes for us.

Like heading to Jones Gap for a hike yesterday with Kai, who not only pooped and peed in the car, but also threw up. Twice. If she wasn’t so dang cute, I would have “forgotten” her up there and come back to Greenville puppy-free.

As for the paci (I know you all are waiting on pins and needles to hear the latest report) – it is officially gone. The only mention of it since that day was Brighton’s random musings about the postman taking his paci’s to a new baby. The boy kicked that transition in the rear and took names. I was so proud of him. And so was Woody.

Off to fill up the ol’ sippy cup with more intestinal explosives. Thankfully Levi is being wined and dined by his Mimi so he doesn’t have to be traumatized by this insanity…and hopefully keeps his own bowels functioning normal.