You may want to look no further then this photo for the tale below is disgusting, horrifying and all together uncouth.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you…

(more…)

My child has butt worms.

*falls on floor and convulses from the shock of typing such words*

BUTT WORMS PEOPLE. Pinworms to be more exact. Highly contagious intestinal parasites which means that the rest of us mostly likely have ASS WORMS.

and thank god I am not alone

At the tail end of all the Fay mayhem, I started finding little piles in my house.

one might try jumping to the sensible conclusion that Rocket

was responsible. And, if I said Ney it twasn’t that furry little bastard, a faithful reader might crack a dirt monster joke, which would make me snicker with glee and then run over to my window so I can peer out across the expense of my backyard and ponder the existence of said dirt monster with more then just a tad bit of apprehension.

And, if I showed you this photo of my nephew who seemed to delight in these mystery piles,

you might start to gag a bit and perhaps one or two of the more delicate and/or pregnant readers might hurl deeply from your toes, for which I sincerely apologize because really he’s not actually eating the poop. i mean, yeah it’s disgusting that he’s got that warm pile nestled in his hand and part of it precariously close to his precious tween taste buds but we all know I like to push the envelope of disgusting, particularly with my desserts. There was the infamous cat crap cake of ‘05

and now the rainy day peanut butter pile cookies

We perverted the recipe I used for my BOGO cookies. Yes, cookies taste great but it’s hard to keep a manchild enthusiastic about baking when he’s dolloping dainty drops of jam into cookies - that is sooooo no cool. Where are the ninja swords or fire? Yep, none to be found so you do the next best thing - you talk poop. What 11 yr old isn’t interested in scatology?

This was boy nephew’s favorite picture of the process

He felt that it had a rather nice emotional quality to it.

For those of you out there on the interwebz, when did you realize that you were no longer a rookie at this parenting thing? I can’t pin point the exact moment where it struck me that I was a mom down and dirty in the trenches with poop up to my elbows and sloppy spitty kisses but every once in awhile I have a moment that reminds me.

A few days ago, Levi dropped off the stinky motherload. Having already wrangled that twice in the previous 5 hours, I passed it off on The Hubster. Poor poor Hubster. I’m not exactly sure how it happened but in the end he and Levi BOTH needed a bath and I, in my typical sympathetic spouse and mother fashion, laughed heartily and pointed at them. Karma is a bastard though and nailed me just a few minutes later.

I sat down here at my computer, with Bo balancing in my lap. He was wiggling around as usual when he decided to grunt on out- ON MY LEG. It shot out of his diaper and ran down my leg, puddling on the floor. I called The Hubster for help and as I stood there waving Bo over my body to keep the poop from further hitting the floor, The Hubster was swabbing up what had already splatted. After a quick parent huddle (ok more like we were yelling at each other over what way would make the least mess while the girls danced around us chanting “Bo pooped Bo pooped!”) we decided the best move was for Bo and I to hit the showers. As I walked through the kitchen I could hear barely the phone ringing above the swirling chaos. The Hubster yells - DONT ANSWER IT! just as I use my one poop free finger to hit the TALK button. One would expect a poop covered chaos bogged mother to snarl, growl or yell “WHAT DO YOU FRICKIN WANT?” but no, I’m no rookie. I answered that phone pleasant as pie “Fidget residence how may I help you?”

I am such a reckless mother. I’ve been throwing my kiddles into the backyard as often as I can, knowing full well that there are RATS!! Rats the size of my 12lb mini pin!! We have an untidy neighbor who’s backyard is a cross between a filthy dog kennel and a junk yard. He has a breeding pair of pit bulls that are strictly outdoor creatures. Between their dog food and my compost heap these RATS! have been living high on the hog.

The Hubster, quit fortunately, works in a pest eradication industry and on the day I called him screaming and foaming at the mouth after spotting a huge pair of RATS! fighting over some food, The Hubster brought home a bait box. I’m fairly certain he felt I was telling some fish tale when I told him how large the RATS! I saw were, for he only loaded the bait box with 4 bricks of tasty tasty poison. Of course, when the bricks disappeared practically overnight The Hubster was more then a little freaked and the next go around he packed the box full of meaty blood thinners for our RAT! friends.

A few days after he left that beefy bomb for our plague carrying pests, Rocket was out in the yard prancing about. On his yard patrol he found a gift, which he lovingly left just a step away from our back door…

DEAD RAT!!!

Yes, I photographed it- after shrieking and dancing around shouting “eww eww eww oh my god, oh my god, eww eww eww!” The girls, on the other hand, were quite excited and stood at the door watching the DEAD RAT! while I tried to ignore the fact that there was a big fat rodent rotting outside my door.

“Mama, where’s the rat going?”

“Um, what? Going? It’s not going anywhere it’s DEAD”

“The rat is moving mama”

*picture me sprinting to the door, boobs akimbo and Bo hanging off me completely bewildered*

Holy flying poop, the RAT! was moving!! OMG OMG OMG eww eww eww!!! I went and laid Bo down, tucked my boobs back into my shirt and went outside to inspect the situation, ready to whack the RAT! with a shovel if need be.

Once outside it was obvious that the RAT! was very dead but that *SOMETHING* was dragging it down into the plastic pallet. What? I have no idea because it was digging UP from underneath!!!!!! This *SOMETHING* proceeded to bury the RAT!, leaving only it’s tail hanging out of the ground. I ran inside lest it bury me too and called The Hubster, who of course thought I was insane. Then Boden started crying and I wound up distracted for a good hour.

Once Bo was resettled and the other children were busy eating, I snuck back outside to see if that thing finished burying the rat. Imagine my surprise when I realized THE ENTIRE DEAD RAT WAS GONE! Poof! Abracadabra! GONE. (cue dramatic music)**DUN DUN DUUUNNNNNNNNNNN**

When Troy got home he yanked the pallet out of the ground and turned over all the dirt in the area up to a foot deep- no RAT!, no RAT! tail, no RAT! bones, no RAT! fur pieces… completely GONE. There was, however, a sharp putrid stench which made us both gag. Fortunately for me I was weird enough to take a picture (ha! blogging habits DO come in handy), so I had hard proof of our furry friend’s existence, leaving The Hubster as baffled as I.

So, now I have 2 problems- a RAT! infestation because my neighbors wont clean up their toxic backyard and some freaking dirt monster that’s eating dead rodents outside my door

What lives underground and eats dead RATS!?? seriously?? For a few days I kept the kids inside under house arrest. They were climbing the walls but in my mind, odds are if it eats dead rats, it probably eats children too. However, I had a change of heart after I ripped out half my hair from being trapped in the house with 47 children for what felt like 2 years. I knew I’d feel awfully sad if the dirt monster got my kids but I figured the damn thing probably keeled over after eating a 12lb poison laden RAT! carcass.

Tomorrow I’m hosting play date. Here’s hoping none of our little friends get toted off by either the RATS! or our mystery dirt monster. I don’t think my home owners insurance covers dirt monster attacks.