Splinters in Your Butt and Nowhere to Poop

"Don't be discouraged.  It's often the last key in the bunch that opens the lock."  

~Author Unknown

My grandmother would cringe at this title. Oh well. It's absolutely fitting and should be the title of my autobiography. If I ever write an autobiography. Which I might. After I write my novels though. Novels first... 

This past week was a lot like every other week in our house. We had all recovered gloriously from the evil stomach bug that we so graciously handed to each other. I decided that the girls and I would join Jason for a volleyball game one night since Mommy very much needed to get out of house and the girls adore anything that involves spending time with Daddy.  My hubby goes from his job as Assistant Athletic Director/P.E. Teacher/Chapel Speaker/Technical Advisor/Marketing Genius/Disciplinarian/Field Painter/Equipment Hauler to football practice (he's the Head Football Coach, too) everyday. Somedays, he goes from football practice to a volleyball game and doesn't get home until way after dinner time. So, a very cranky Emery and I spent the day running errands, doing 4 loads of laundry, making pizza for dinner (easy to take along in the car since we wouldn't be home til late),and  changing disgusting diapers (Emery is teething). In the midst of my everyday chaos, I got 2 slices of disappointing news, one of which could have thrown me into a serious freak out. 

BUT, I am proud to say that I took a moment to breathe and decided to think positive. 

I arrived at the football field just before practice to pick up Destiny from her "homecoming rehearsal". Des was picked to present the Homecoming King and Queen with their crowns the following night and got to leave class early to rehearse. I grabbed Des and her booster seat and set off to run my second round of errands before football practice ended. Halfway through our outing Des pipes up from the backseat and says, "I think I have a splinter in my butt." I say, "How would you get a splinter in your butt?" and she replies, "Cause we had to sit on the bleachers during rehearsal." I reassured her there was no splinter in her rear-end and we continued on our merry way. Arriving back at the football field with more than enough time to spare, I removed Emery from her car seat to feed her and Des jumped into the driver's seat to pretend she was driving. I began feeding Emery and noticed things had become very quiet in the car. There were no pretend conversations or pretend car noises coming from the front seat. Then, it happened. Des let out an ear piercing scream and burst into tears. Now, those of you who have been around my oldest child for any length of time know that she is ALWAYS having a crisis. Every tiny ripple in her life sends her into a massive meltdown. Therefore, I calmly asked, 

"WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU FREAKING OUT ABOUT?!" 

I looked over the seat and she had one of her pant legs pulled all the way up, she was laying on her side (still in the driver's seat) and having a gigantic spaz attack. 

"DES, WHAT IS WRONG?!"

"I (sob) HAVE A SPLINTER (sob) IN MY BUTT!!!!"

Silent laughter...you know, the kind that you try to hide in church when something becomes hilarious, but you can't LOL, so you try to laugh silently. She noticed the laughing which led to even louder sobs. During these all-to-frequent breakdowns, I begin to ask myself where I went wrong. Why is this the way my child chooses to react to every situation? I must be a terrible parent and horrible role-model if this is how she is responding to life's tiny hiccups, right? Oh sure, she's only 5, but c'mon! 

I got out of the car and made her show me what she was talking about. 

She was still holding her pant leg all the way up and sobbing, but upon inspection, I discovered that there actually was a splinter sticking out of her upper thigh (not her butt). I assured her that I could pull it out no problem and we could go on with our life, but she ran away screaming. This went on for about 30 minutes. I am so not exaggerating. Then, I began to notice a familiar smell. I had been dealing with this familiar smell all day long, but this time it wasn't coming from the teething child, it was coming from the unconsolable heap in the driver's seat who was still giving herself a wedgie with her pant leg. Since we were outside at a field and no where close to a bathroom, I offered the suggestion that she should use the Port-A-Potty. You can imagine how well that was received. I began to try and negotiate with her. When will I learn? My nerves were frayed from the constant screaming and crying and complaining and refusal of help that I just screamed, "FINE THEN! KEEP FREAKING OUT ABOUT THE SPLINTER IN YOUR BUTT AND HAVING NOWHERE TO POOP INSTEAD OF TRUSTING ME AND LETTING ME HELP YOU FIX ALL OF IT!!!"

Eventually, Jason got done with practice and we headed back to the school so Des could use the bathroom before heading to the volleyball game. Emery and I waited a long time for them to return, but when they finally emerged, Des had stopped crying and had returned her pant leg to it's downward position. Daddy had removed the splinter, the indoor bathroom served it's purpose well and life was good again. 

The next day, I went to lunch with my dear friend, Stephanie. I wrote about Steph awhile back when I was praising all of the friends who help me "limp along." Steph and her family are moving to Indiana this coming week and I wanted to see her one last time. Steph's husband, Greg, has been working extremely hard the past 5 years to make partner in his company. Making partner has been the ultimate goal and when he got the call a few weeks ago that he had finally done it, Steph said it was one of the most amazing feelings ever. The last 3 years they have lived in Florida have not been the easiest. Besides the fact that they could have been told at any moment they would be moving, Steph has had some health issues, she has 3 young children at home, she is far away from any family and Greg has worked pretty much non-stop. She's struggled with every emotion under the sun and every time we would talk, she would tell me how worn out with all of it she had become. BUT, she never stopped believing and had faith that they would get the call saying it had all been worth it.

She kept trusting and the call finally came.

I'm going to miss my friend SO MUCH, but I am so proud of her resolve. Instead of throwing in the towel over every "splinter" that came her way, she pulled it out and kept going. Instead of panicking when there was "no where to poop", she took a deep breath and held her ground til there was relief in sight. I want to be just like her when I grow up. 

In the meantime, I will keep trying, keep trusting and keep pulling out those pesky splinters that will inevitably find there way into my life. Hopefully, my child will learn by my example that freaking out isn't the way to handle anything. Hopefully, she will make up her mind that not giving up and believing that everything will eventually work out is the way to respond. I'm trying to lead her in that direction...even if I tend to get frustrated and freak out right along side her sometimes. 
I can't lie...I probably wouldn't have used the Port-A-Potty either.

P.S. Stephanie, have some soup for me and keep persevering. 
I'll see you soon, my friend!