4:27 p.m.

[ Early morning mess. ]

Warning! If you have ever entertained thoughts or floundered anxiously about with the issue of not having children, be aware that this entry could help establish without question your decision to remain childless. If you have ever decided to not have children then changed your mind, stay away.

Just stay away.

~

I had a less than marvelous start to my day. When that happens my entire day sucks so right now I'm feeling less than chipper.

I woke up to the sound of my son dragging my desk chair over to my dresser. I was still fuzzy at this point so it didn't register right away that he was headed for the phone, which has been relocated twice in an effort to keep him from calling exotic locales and running up a nosebleed-inducing phone bill. The second realization hit, I opened my eyes and was greeted by the site of my son standing in the chair without his diaper. This isn't unusual, Trent has been streaking for several weeks now. This time, however, his butt was covered with poop.

I propelled myself out of bed in one quick movement but was too late. He had sat down on the floor to remove his diaper and smeared shit all over the place. On his feet. Up and down his legs. His hands. My desk chair, which really upset me because it has a cloth seat and backrest. I smacked his bottom and told him no (after dragging him to the changing table for a cleanup, of course). I just wanted to cry but no tears would come. I woke up and the first things I felt were urgency, anger and this overwhelming sense of sadness that this was the way my day was beginning. Cleaning up shit while Zoe screamed in the other room and Trent hollered angrily from his high chair because he didn't want to be confined while I scrubbed up the lovely little mess he had just left me.

I scrubbed and scrubbed with Resolve, which is supposed to be able to remove any kind of carpet or fabric stain, but was only making my chair wetter while the stain stubbornly refused to budge.

This whole episode made me think about my mother, who went through this with my brother every morning, only he took the poop out of his diaper and purposefully smeared it on the walls and into the carpet. Every Morning. My mother cleaned him up then got to work on the mess, scrubbing and sobbing, every fucking morning. I don't want nor do I need that. I have enough to do as it is.

I decided that it's finally time to start potty training, whether Trent will speak or not. He has no trouble leading us by the hand to get him something else he wants, he can do the same thing when he starts having to go to the bathroom. I spoke to Larry and he agreed with my decision, which is good because I intend to get started anyway, with or without approval. This mess was just that bad.

I don't know why I couldn't cry. I wish I had been able to but I couldn't and now I've been sad and upset all day long. I can't start my day like that and have it get better. It never does. I just have to go to bed and hope things are better the next day.

Why the hell is he doing that? I've smacked his bottom on three separate occasions for taking off his diaper.

I wish he'd just stop doing that. It's very stressful.