Week three, day six: We've got a floater!

Today bit.

This morning I realized I'm going to have a very hard month financially. Hubby got paid, but his pay stub says one amount and the deposit we got in the bank account was only a third of that.

He told me last month that his first two paycheques will probably be smaller than what he is actually owed, and the third will be normal plus whatever was missing before (payroll snafus at the training facility.) I thought it would be half his pay, and I could live with that. It was a third. And I can't call him and warn him to go talk to the payroll people. I have to wait for him to call.

If he talks to payroll we'll be fine. If not, I'm worried. (and NO, I don't need money, my lovely friends. If the going gets tough I'll let you know. Right now I'm ok.)

Little I. was needy and tantrumy all day.

(Warning to HGers: GROSSMENT)

Then tonight during the boys' bath, as I was shampooing Baby N.'s hair in her oh-so-cute sink tub, the happy, splashy bath sounds from the big tub ceased. And then A. let out a wail.

"Mooooom! Little I. pooped in the tub!!!"

I wrapped the just rinsed baby in a towel, plopped her unceremoniously on the floor (crying ensued) and sprinted the three steps to the big tub.

It contained two wet boys, a dozen bath toys, and five pieces of brown, smelly poop. The poop was busily dissolving in the warm water. The stench was horrendous, like someone had turned a toilet into a Crock Pot.

Little I. had the strangest expression on his face, as if he was thinking, "I know that's mine, but I have no idea how it got out of my body and into the tub."

I pulled the boys out, threw them on a towel and chucked their toys in the sink. Amidst howls from the baby, I scrubbed out the tub, called my mom for advice, rinsed the tub like mad, filled it again and threw the boys back in.

Then I dressed the baby and plunked her into her swing, still screaming. I washed and bleached the tub toys and sink, washed the boys, and sent them to get pajamas.

I picked up the howling, angry baby. She took one furious look at me and then puked all over me and the floor, missing herself entirely.

F*ck.

(END GROSSMENT)

Finally got the boys in bed, baby calmed down and asleep, bathroom cleaned and bleached and living room rug spot-cleaned. And now the laundry I was going to fold tonight is still sitting untidily in four baskets in my living room.

Notes to self:

1. Little I. is not ready to be potty-trained, as he seems unable to tell when he needs to go vs. when he's farting.
2. If Little I. ever gets constipated, sit him in a warm bath ALONE for awhile.
3. Bathing the baby while the boys had their bath seemed like a good way to multi-task, but was a very bad idea.
4. A. deserves a medal for being willing to get in the bath with Little I. at all. This is the second time he's pooped in the tub. Hubby handled it last time, thank goodness!
5. Any ounce of glamour you may have thought you still possessed is a pipe dream. Let the delusion go.