Just Be Glad I Don't Take Pictures Of Everything

This post will be completely random and out of order. Consider yourself warned!

Guess what I did Monday night? Tired of the pirate invasion that had taken over my beautiful garden tub, I had Jackson's bath tub toys hit the high seas and sail over to his own bathroom. He has loved taking a bath in my tub, but I was a little tired of being plagued by Spiderman, pirate ships, a million cups, bath crayons, squirt toys, and whatever else Jackson could convince us to let him put in the tub. I wanted my tub back, so I staged an eviction of all the loot. Jackson wasn't thrilled about it, but in time (with lots of therapy), I'm sure he'll get over it. Wanna see the results?

My beautiful tub. With nothing in it! Glorious!

Just a fraction of the toys that now have a new home.

There are tons more hiding on the upper ledge. With all that stuff it's hard to picture how he fits in there!

The reason for the move: That creepy octopus had NO business being in my tub. Those beedy little eyes looking at me; I.Think.Not.

And guess what else I did? Last week when I was off I decided to rethink my policy on going gray. Back in the summer I was debating whether or not I should start dying my hair. I held off, but the other day I caught a glimpse of one too many gray hairs and I made my mind up. I decided to go darker. I actually dyed it twice because I don't think I used enough of the mix the first time, and I could still see gray hair, so Jeremy was kind enough to help me out the second time.

Here's a before picture:

And here is an after:
It's darker, not quite black, but with just a hint of red in the sunshine. I'm happy with it, and it should grow out without much trouble. We'll wait and see if I do it again.

And are you ready for what I don't have a picture of?

Last night when I was walking in the house I noticed a terrible, sour smell. My first thought was that something got left in the trash can. I walked through our dark living room and into the kitchen trying to find the source of the smell. I flipped on the kitchen light and walked over to the trash can. Nothing. I walked over to the washing machine thinking that maybe wet clothes got left inside. Nothing. I'm about to check a mouse trap (blegh) when Jackson says, "Hey Mama, what is that?"

I walked into the living room to see a big pile of stinky, runny dog poo right in the middle of the floor. How I missed stepping in it when I came into the house is only by the grace of God.

My first thoughts (in sheer seconds):

• O.M.G. Macy crapped in the middle of the floor. On the carpet.
• O.M.G. It looks like tar. Gag me with a spoon.
• O.M.G. It's only 5:00. Jeremy won't be home for another half hour so that means that I have to clean up this wretched mess by myself. With a three year old assisting.
• O.M.G. What if Jackson tries to touch the poop? I'll just die.
• O.M.G. But I have to touch poop and O.M.G. I'm just gonna die.

So I did what any girl would do. I waited for Jeremy to get home to clean up the poop.

Only kidding, but how I wish I wasn't.

I put on my big girl panties and went searching for the carpet cleaner. Armed with that and some very old rags, I dutifully began the disgusting process of cleaning the carpet.

Is this a good time to let y'all know that I simply can't handle vomit or poop?

Jackson was a big help. He provided me with lots of very insightful comments like, "Mama, we're not supposed to poo-poo on the carpet" and "Mama, I'm glad my poo-poo doesn't look like that" and "Mama, Macy's poo-poo stinks like a poot."

So very helpful, that little man of mine!

I in turn provided Jackson with lots of retching and gagging sounds and took lots of breaks to run into the kitchen and dry heave into the sink.

Jeremy found another pile in our closet when he got home. I totally bailed on the removal process, but from what I overheard, Jeremy definitely got the worst end of Macy's little gift.

And to think, I came thisclose to ending 2009 without a post about dog poop. How could I handle the disappointment that I know that would have caused you? I hope I just made your day (and your year!) with my little gift to you!