Whew! I survived a busy weekend and a VERY trying Monday. And, the nature of my Monday accounts for the tardiness of this post, but more about that later. Right now, I'm going to do my best to tell you about my weekend, but please be forewarned. I am having one of those days where all my thoughts are jumbled together in my head. It's kind of like someone hit the fast forward button in my brain, and now my thoughts are flying through at record speeds. Unfortunately, I can't interpret them at those speeds. Instead, they sound an awful lot like Alvin and the Chipmunks. And, I could never really understand them either. Well, other than the fact that they wanted their two front teeth for Christmas. And, I always thought that was a strange request from Santa Claus..But, as usual, I digress.
So, where do I begin? I went to Women of Faith last weekend with two of my girlfriends. And, can I just say, I loved them both before I left, but I love each of them even more now! They really are two awesome women, and I had a wonderful time. Oh, and in case you are wondering, I apparently neither talked in my sleep nor wandered off. Of course, that may have been because I never made it to REM sleep. We stayed up until 3:00 a.m! But, isn't that really what you are supposed to do when you have sleepovers with your girlfriends?
I think I mentioned before that I had never been to a Women of Faith conference. I'm not sure that I had any clear idea of what to expect, but it wouldn't have mattered. The conference was better than I ever expected it would be. I knew who was going to be speaking and performing at the conference before I got there. For example, I knew that Max Lucado was going to be speaking, and I knew that Nicole C. Mullen was going to be performing. And, it was their presentations and performances that I was looking forward to. Other than reading some of Sheila Walsh's books, I hadn't heard anything about the remainder of the Women of Faith speakers. And, to to be honest, I wasn't sure any of the rest of the speakers would be able to hold my attention or "speak to me." After all, they were older women who had white hair. Hello!!! Sometimes, I can be so dense, and I make my own, very poor, very inaccurate judgments about others. (And did I mention that the Women of Faith theme this year is God's grace. How appropriate, especially since I need A LOT of it.)
They were the best! They were all very joyful, very funny, godly women. There was no question about it; each of them spoke to me. I could go on and on about their funny stories and their messages, but I don't want to ruin anything for anyone else who might be going to see the conference. Suffice it to say, it is my prayer that when I get to be an older woman myself, that I be just like them. Well, with the exception of the white hair. I'm not quite there yet. But, I definitely want to be as joyful, funny, and godly as each of those women.
Of course, I thoroughly enjoyed Max Lucado and Nicole C. Mullen. I know I've told you before, but I'll tell you again, she is my favorite!!! I had never seen her in person or heard her live before, but she was even better than I imagined she would be. Oh, and she is so cute! Awesome.
But, it was over all too soon. Back to reality. Back to dealing with things mothers have to deal with. Back to dealing with dunanuhna...bowel movements. (Yes, that's my best attempt at writing out that scary music they play in the movies. You know, the music that played before the sharks appeared during the Jaws movies? Come on. Work with me here, people!)
WARNING: The following content may not be suitable for people who are eating, people who have recently eaten, people with weak stomachs, and/or people who never read the book Everyone Poops. You know, those people who will only poop at their own home, in their own bathrooms, when no one else is around. You know who you are...
Yes, I said bowel movements. You see W. has been having some problems with those over the last couple of weeks. Ever since he was really sick with the stomach flu, which apparently was the root of this problem. Anyway, we had taken him to the doctor because he was vomiting in the mornings. Who knew that constipation could cause vomiting? Well, anyway, we thought the problem had resolved itself, but Saturday morning during praise and worship I got a phone call from W., informing me that he had thrown up again. So, we followed the doctor's instructions and made an appointment to go see him on Monday. Monday came, and W. and I went to the doctor. The doctor examined W., and the good news was he didn't have an impaction. But why is it that with every bit of good news, there usually must be some bad news? And, in this particular case, there was some very, bad news.
The bad news was that I had to give him an enema. A what???? You have to be kidding me, right? Now, I understood that when W. was born, I received my badge to be an honorary member of the Poop Patrol. Like all mothers before me, I watched W's bowel movements, and proudly reported their characteristics to the doctor when he asked about them. I know, I know, just call me Sergeant Heather of the First Poop Brigade. But, I've got to tell you ladies (and George), I thought I got the opportunity to retire from the Poop Patrol after potty training was completed. But, alas, your Poop Patrol duties are never really over. So, that's exactly why I called in the reinforcements: General Great-Grandma of the First Poop Brigade. Well, that and I'm a big chicken. I had never seen an enema up close, but I knew she had. And, I knew that she still carried her Poop Patrol badge with pride. I mean, why else did she always ask if I was regular? And, she did not disappoint. She took hold of the enema situation with great authority. Well, as much authority as one could have when one is attempting to give an enema to a 100 pound ten year old. A ten year old who is as tall as you are. A ten year old whose feet are bigger than your feet. A ten year old who does not want to get into a modified version of downward facing dog pose...So, really no one had any authority over this situation. At all. Except for maybe W.
Fast forward TWO hours. Two hours later I was really wishing that Fleet Enemas came with a shot of vodka and a sedative. (What, don't act so shocked. You try to give an enema to a ten year old, then we'll talk about it. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And, I'm just kidding anyway...) But, since they don't, I settled for one Diet Coke, two Advil, and three Rice Krispie bars.
And, that, my friends, is why I didn't post last night. By the time the whole ordeal was over, I felt like I had been through the war. (Have you ever wondered what war is referred to in that saying? Anyway, I suppose it doesn't matter. Any war would do, but I felt like I had been through a big one, possibly even World War III...)
But, here it is. My long awaited post about poop. I just know a Pulitzer Prize is right around the corner. And, when it arrives, I will hang it on the wall, right next to my honorary badge from the Poop Patrol.