The Hatter family

Bad news: Cale pooped himself, and by "pooped himself" I mean it was literally streaked up his entire back all the way to his neck. It was all over his jammies and the living room smelled like the rodeo. Good news: Daddy is home because it is Saturday and he took care of it! Yeah! The minute he took off his pants I hear this coming from the other room. "Oh no!....Oh no!...It's everywhere...It's REALLY bad!....It's a total blowout!.....I need help....." I hollered at him to pretend he was by himself. (I am so mean!) He was trying to get him clean by using two hundred and ninety six wipes, and finally just gave up and put him in the tub....we took pictures of the filthy kid, and I debated posting them, but I figured that is borderline offensive to some readers. By the time he was in the tub, he was laughing and smiling like he didn't smell like a porta pottie at Fiesta. He had no idea he stunk. It was pretty funny.
More bad news: Shawn I bought a wall shelf to hang above our desk, and the installation did not go as planned. I measured perfectly (or at least I thought I did) and we ended up being just a hair off....we tried to fix it and ended up drilling about eight holes in the wall and completely annihilating about four feet of drywall. I am looking at the shelf laying here covered in white dust, (not on the wall) and wondering what we are going to do! I guess we are going to go the way of our old standby...my dad. Poop! Shawn and I can pontificate our theories on philosophy/education/politics/religion, etc. all day, but can't hang anything heavier than a picture to a wall without hurting something...Go figure! I hate that it didn't just "work"...it never does!
Good news: I am getting caught up on scrapbooking....I work and work on it, and feel proud of myself until I look at a book or magazine on scrapbooking ideas and I realize my attempts pale in comparison and are sort of pathetic. Oh well....my kids won't have a scrapbook with a home made quilt glued to the page, but they will have some pictures of their babyhood to look at, some even with something written underneath it! I am going to try not to let my feelings of scrapbooking inadequacy make me want to quit.
More good news: I re-joined the gym, finally, after about two years of pregnancy, laying around after pregnancy, and generally letting all my muscles turn into jello. I have gone three out of the last four days (yeah me!) and I am really going to try to make it stick! I am going to meet with a personal trainer....I tried having Shawn tell me what to do, but he gets a little overzealous and starts putting me through a workout that would make a Navy SEAL cry. I need someone to tell me realistic, fun things to do that I can actually DO...not all sorts of squatting and heavy lifting. :) I know I am a disappointment to my husband, who probably thinks it is idiotic of me that I don't like to do squats with the weight bar because: a; it hurts my shoulder bones, and b; it makes your hands smell like metal. It is better for our marriage if he doesn't try to "help". I took the babies to the gym's childcare for the first time Friday. I walked in, and fought the urge to walk right back out....there was a lady at the desk who had NO idea what was going on, a twelve year old walking around holding babies, and about forty kids running rampant all over the place. I asked where to put the babies and the twelve year old (most helpful "employee") pointed to the rug, in the center of all the bedlam. I informed her that "NO" I was not sitting them in the middle of all that....proceeded back to the check in desk to find out what the heck was going on, only to find out that the lady at the desk didn't really speak English all that well. I asked her where the babies went, and she said "In there." pointing to a room (and by "room" I mean a tiny stall about six by nine feet, stuffed with six old bouncy seats and excersaucers) I put Cale (reluctantly) into one of the excersaucers, and went to get Hayden. When I got back, she had pulled Cale into the main room, where any old freak-o kid could bang on him with a toy or something. I finally got them settled, and felt HORRIBLE. Long story short, I bawled to a gym employee about it, who looked at me like I was emotionally unstable...she didn't know whether or not to hug me or call security....I ended up working out for about twenty minutes, and couldn't stand it anymore and went to get them....Moms out there.....WHAT DO I DO???? Is this normal at gyms??? Shawn wants to check it out, and if we really decide it is skeevy, we will argue our way out of the contract. I am trying to decide if I am being a psycho about it, or I should trust my instinct....any advice is welcome....There is only one other gym near me and it is WAY more expensive and they charge extra for childcare so I am really debating what to do here.....
Gotta go check to see if there is anything good on the TiVo....(besides "GameDay" and "Snoop Dogg's Fatherhood") :)