When Your Day Starts with Poop Water and Just Keeps on Giving

It’s currently 1:15 p.m. (ish), and I’ve had a day. Not a “where’s my other sock?” kind of day—more like a “there’s poop and water everywhere and my brain is leaking out of my ears” kind of day.

Jimmy stayed home from school today because we had an optometrist appointment. Sweet, right? You’d think this would mean we’d have a slower start to the morning. HA. Think again.

Before 8 a.m., my darling child—my heart, my soul, my reason for 8 gallons of coffee a week—was covered head to toe in poop. Not playing in it. Just existing in it. Living his best life. And me? I’m five feet away, working away on the HeyJimmyBooks.com website, blissfully unaware that my child has morphed into a walking, giggling biohazard.

SPLASH

Water. Everywhere.

Do I know better? Absolutely. I’ve been Jimmy’s mom for six years. I know he’s quick. I know he loves water. I know he doesn’t know he shouldn’t throw the entire container of water like he’s auditioning for a shampoo commercial.

Cue deep breath. Cue inner dialogue that sounds a lot like, “Okay, universe. You wanna go?”

Luckily, I hadn’t taken yesterday’s clean towels upstairs yet. I sacrifice two of them to the cause. Then realize: mop. Brilliant invention. Should’ve led with that. Good news? That spot under the china cabinet hasn’t been that clean since Jimmy was crawling. So… silver lining? 🤷‍♀️✨

Next crisis: I am dangerously low on coffee. And I mean dangerously. But going to get it means dragging Jimmy through the drive-thru. Cue internal debate: How badly do I need coffee?

So we go. I get four coffees (because let’s not pretend I’m stopping at one) and Jimmy gets a Happy Meal. We are momentarily okay.

Until we’re not.

Jimmy is in rare form today. He’s throwing toys, flipping everything off the porch, and channeling his inner wrecking ball. He’s not doing anything particularly destructive… just a million tiny things that chip away at my sanity like a very cute, very determined jackhammer.

I find myself looking at the calendar, wondering: how am I going to make it through the entire summer? Just him and I.
Answer: Playgrounds. Safari Niagara. And a lot of pre-coffee pep talks.

Jimmy will likely fall into a routine fairly quickly. The real issue? Me. I’m the one who needs to figure out how to juggle caregiving, creating, and clinging to a shred of focus long enough to finish Hey Jimmy, Let’s Cut, Color & Create!
Spoiler: I am not currently winning that battle.

But you know what? Writing this helps. Blogging is extremely therapeutic—I highly recommend it if your morning starts with poop and ends with four coffees.

Now if you’ll excuse me… it’s almost time to get ready for the eye doctor. I’m just hoping he doesn’t toss a chair out the window before we get there. 🥴