Introduction

My path to parenthood has been a very unconventional one. A very unconventional, moderately dysfunctional and sometimes straight up shitty path. I have never birthed a child. No, I have never had morning sickness, never swelled up like a whale, never passed the proverbial watermelon through the hole the size of a proverbial lemon. Nope, I have never done that. However I consider myself just as much a mom as anyone. For me, my children came to me after some very unfortunate circumstances in their lives and at the ripe old age of 30, I have become mom to three children ages 6, 8, and 12.

Their dad and I met six years ago while working in a restaurant. Much to the dismay of most people I know, it was love at first sight. See, he was very rough around the edges, and still is. However, over the years those who know me, my friends and family, have come to love him like I do. And now they have embraced his children as part of our own family. My family is amazing and I love them more than anything in the world.

Dad and I are still together, still in love and still going strong. The children have different stories that brought them to live with us, about which I will not go into detail. That is not important now. We are a family and this is the story of our journey together.

I call myself mom here, because they call me mom. Occasionally, when they are mad, they call me their "fake" mom. Sometimes, I have to bite my tongue not to say, "Well then I guess you lost the 'fake' dessert your 'fake' mother made you!"  They are right though, I did not birth them. But for all intents and purposes, I am their mother. I bathe them, I clean their puke when they are sick, I buy them Christmas presents, I throw their birthday parties, I go to school conferences, I do it all. (With dad, of course, but this blog is about me, not him!) I wash their streaked underpants, I turn their dirty socks right-side-out before washing, and I sniff feet to make sure they have been washed properly. If that isn't motherly love, then I don't know what is.

I really hope in this blog to explore some of the unique situations I have found myself in, including raising a clinically diagnosed defiant child, working with the system trying to get custody of kids, and having to play academic catch up with three kids that are falling behind in school. It hasn't been all struggle though, and the fight to give these kids a good life has started to pay off. And lets not forget moments, that while at the time seem so frustrating and nerve wracking, when I re-tell the story, make me pee my pants.... one of which inspired the title of this blog.... Let us begin with:

IS THAT CHOCOLATE OR POOP?!?!?!
About two months ago, I sat down to do my business on the toilet. As I glanced over to the tile wall, I noticed some brownish, swirl marks right about arms height.

"Is that shit??" I said, literally out loud.
"It can't be," I answered myself, "My kids are not disgusting enough to swirl their poop on the wall! Besides, we had chocolate for dessert, it must just be from sticky fingers"

I gave them all the benefit of the doubt, grabbed the Tilex and disinfected the shit out of the shit (or chocolate- I didn't know at this point). I went to bed and forgot about the poop. Until two days later, when again, doing my business, I glanced at the tile. This time, our little Picasso had designed a more linear piece, straight lines slanting down.

"Oh my God," I thought, "It is shit!"

Horrified, I Tilexed again, and this time marched straight into the bedroom and announced to dad, "One of the kids is wiping their crap on the wall!"

"Nuh, uh," he said.

I wasn't in the mood to bicker, so I went to bed.

A few days later, before a shower, the hieroglyphs appeared again! Against my natural instinct to disinfect, I ran back into the bedroom, grabbed dad's arm and dragged him into the bathroom."Like I said, one of your children is smearing shit on the bathroom wall!" I rarely use the term "your kids" with him, and when I do, he knows that I am not denouncing ownership of them any more than a biological parent that says this to a spouse when a child does something incorrigible.

I decided to leave the poop on the wall and confront the kids after school. I knew none of them was going to admit to it, but I thought if I scared them all good enough, maybe at least it would stop! That night, when we were all brushing teeth, I gathered the three of them together. "I would like to know who is smearing poop on the wall!"

The harmonious chorus of "not me!" would have made Handel proud.

"Well, someone is doing it and it certainly isn't me or dad. I will tell you right now, that I am going to check the bathroom after each one of you poops until I find out who it is! And when I find you, and I will, you will wish you had never touched your poo! You will be cleaning the bathrooms from top to bottom and will be grounded forever!" I could tell by the looks in their eyes, that I was getting nowhere. My threat was useless, whoever did it could just stop and I would never know. I had to take a different tactic. I had to play dirty.

In a soft, concerned mother voice, I said, "You know, you guys, this actually scares mom a bit. It makes me worried about whoever did this. You see, normal people don't play with their poop. The only things that play with their poop are monkeys and crazy people. And you are definitely not monkeys, so that means you must be nuts. If you are crazy you have to live in a special hospital for crazy people. They might even put you in a straight jacket!!"

The boys, our 6 and 12 year-olds, snickered a bit. But as much as she tried to hide it, I saw the look of panic flash through our 8 year-old's eyes! It was her! I knew it was! I had successfully solved the mystery! I didn't blow her cover to the boys, but I knew I had gotten through to her.

Later that evening, our daughter came out and admitted to me that she smeared the poop. I informed her that she was not going to live in a psych ward and that she wasn't crazy, but it was disgusting and she would be cleaning the bathrooms for two weeks.

My bathroom has been poop free ever since :)