Friday, September 19, 2008

This morning, I stepped in it.


Isn't she adorable? Well, at the moment, I hate her. Profoundly hate her.
Anybody want a Yorkie? Free! I'll pay for shipping and handling.

Yes, I stepped in it.
A pile of crap.
Maya's crap.
Literally.
In my bedroom in the dark.

You see, sometimes she sleeps in our bedroom, in her little bed.
But apparently she doesn't always stay in her bed.
And sometimes in the middle of the night, she has to go potty.
Usually, she waits until Steve takes her out in the morning to give in to that feeling.

Last night, she decided she didn't want to wait until morning.
So she pooped in about five different places in our bedroom.
On our carpet. Our off-white carpet.

When I got up this morning, I went to the computer.
At the other end of our second floor.
With off-white carpet in all the upstairs rooms.

(Why did I not go to my own laptop in my own study?
Excellent question!
Why did I not go do my regular morning prayer and meditation?
Another good question!
Answer: I needed to learn a lesson about priorities.)

While sitting at the computer, I thought: "It smells like poop. But that's not possible. I must be imagining it."
No, I wasn't imagining it. I got up from the chair, looked down at my feet, and there it was.

On my slipper.
On the rug.
I looked across the room.
Footprints leading from our bedroom to where I stood.
Poop.

I screamed and cursed.
Something like, "Oh my God! Steve, your f-ing dog pooped in our bedroom."
Something like that. No, it was exactly that: My screams woke Daniel up.
He quoted me verbatim.
Oops.
"I'm so sorry, buddy, you didn't deserve to hear that."


Here's the thing: it really is my fault. No, I'm not trying to get anyone's pity or pats on the back.
I walked her at 9 pm. She did both sets of business then.
We went to bed around midnight - we LOVE Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert.
Neither of us wanted to walk her at that point.
I thought: "If we don't walk her, we should put her in her box. Just in case..."
But I said nothing. I did nothing.
And then this morning, I stepped in it.


Of course, all this stuff makes me think about my life. In what areas of my life, my marriage, my parenting, my friendships, am I ignoring the signs of the ____ hitting the fan? Where am I allowing the crap to build up and back up, but I refuse to do something about it? To exercise it, to take care of it, to put everything where it belongs? What makes me think that waiting will make the bad stuff go away or get better? Why don't I just do what I need to do when I know it needs to be done? Why won't I have the difficult discussion, the confrontation, say what I need, ask for help, and receive help when it is offered? How many times and in how many ways do I need to step in it?

There are corners of my life where I can already smell something.
Something is not right. Constipated. Or is it running loose?
I'm not sure, but it's not right.
The question is, will i turn over and go back to sleep?
Hoping it can wait until morning or next week or next month.
Or will I get up and take care of it before I step in it again?

I hate Maya right now.
But she is a great teacher.
And I would gladly give this great teacher away to the first person who asks for her!


Added on Saturday, Sept. 20th at 10:30 am: In response to Amy's comment and question: Daniel quoted me almost verbatim, leaving out the offending word, saying "f-ing" in its place. And as he said it, he wept. Hearing either of his parents use curse words wounds his tender spirit. Literally causes him to cry.

It was heart-breaking to me to see his tears on account of something I said. I could do nothing but apologize and ask for his forgiveness after he confronted me about my bad language. So I guess Maya wasn't the only one teaching me yesterday morning. I'd give Maya away in a heartbeat, but Daniel, I will definitely keep.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!

So hate it when this happens!!!!! What a fiasco!!!

Love the analogies you were able to draw from it, though. Very wise. YODA would be proud :-)

We'd gladly take Maya off your hands...but the 'boyz' might be too much competition. Although pet messes are much easier here with the hard wood floors. Doesn't make the stepping in it part any less heinous, though.

So sorry for this huge addition to the messiness (!) of your life.

Anonymous said...

One foot in front of the other! Don't be too hard on yourself about what you could or should have done. No one ever scrapes off the crap until it's on the bottom of their shoe!

Amy said...

My cat barfed on my very nice and expensive family room sofa a few days ago. I only discovered it yesterday (a pillow was hiding it), so it's now dried, and I have to figure out what to do. Ugh. These creatures become a part of our homes and lives, but they do create chaos at times.

I'm glad to know a fellow sister uses the F word at times like that. No one but my animals hear me say it when I stump my know or something, and then I always feel guilty.

So Daniel quoted you verbatim, huh?

Have a great weekend!

GailNHB said...

Lisa, yes, this is an addition to what is already quite messy in my life. But all is well.

Karen, this morning I spent quite a while looking for my (discarded) slippers. Then I remembered... what's done is done. Let it go. Then I took one un-slippered step after the other to the kitchen in search of coffee.

Amy, all the best in getting that stain out of your couch. Your question about his verbatim quote caused me to put an addendum at the end of the post. Thanks for that prompt... Yes, the f-word does escape these lips on rare occasions; I have to learn to keep it quiet when the kids are in the house... even if it is only 6:30 in the morning.

jmgb said...

my shit stinks too:)

kat said...

i LOVED this post :) and i sooo identify. i appreciate the lesson you shared along WITH it, too.