Poop

No, I'm not necessarily referring to baby poop, although while on that topic let me mention two things...1) solid foods changed EVERYTHING and had me seriously doubting my devotion to cloth diapers for a couple of days. But, then I discovered biodegradable flushable liners for the diapers, plus we've gained some experience, and so we're back to a content cloth diapering family. 2) Emmy had never had a "blowout" with her cloth diapers. She may have come close, but we'd never had to change her clothes because the diaper couldn't contain it all, only when her wiggling on the changing table complicated matters. However, she finally had her first "blowout" on Friday. That's right folks, a blowout in the parking lot of Wendy's while on the road to Birmingham, just as the snow flurries began to fly. It was freezing cold, I was trying to get her changed without making a huge mess, and she was screaming because it turns out I had her head pressed into the buckle of her car seat, which was clearly uncomfortable. Oops, bad mom moment. (I thought she was just cold, but then since she's like a tiny propane heater, she was probably still comfy). Needless to say, it was not a pleasant 5 minutes while I panicked, Charles searched for clean clothes, and I went through every cloth wipe and half a bag of disposable wipes in the diaper bag. Sigh. Not a moment I wish to repeat anytime soon.

But back to the matter at hand. Let's back up to oh, maybe a week or two ago when we started to notice that we were getting air bubbles escaping through the pipes, particularly when the toilet in the master bath was flushed. We've had this happen in the past, but it had been quite a while. Then we noticed that sometimes it took the toilets a time or two to flush completely. Charles did an internet search and best he could tell it meant there was a blockage and it wouldn't correct itself, so we knew we needed to call a plumber, which we did once we were back in town Monday. We wanted to go ahead and get an appointment scheduled before it became a big problem.

The plumber was scheduled to come Tuesday morning. However, when Tuesday morning rolled around, I awoke at 6 am feeling not so hot and about five minutes later the stomach virus of DOOM set in. Ugh. Needless to say, I wasn't so disappointed when the plumber called and asked to reschedule for Wednesday, although the toilet flushing issue, well, let's just say it was an annoyingly ill-timed complication. Fortunately Charles stayed home to take care of Emmy while I spent the day in bed. Not an enjoyable start to the week at all.

Wednesday morning I was pleased to wake up feeling much better and relieved to be awaiting a call from the plumber informing me of when he would be here. Much to my surprise, he showed up unannounced around 8:50 am, just as I'd finished putting Emmy down for a nap and was seconds away from getting dressed the doorbell rang. Yes, it was the plumber. I was completely thrown off, and he was apologetic because clearly I was not expecting his arrival and I was supposed to be given a 30-45 minute warning call from their office. And, in all the chaos Rags' barking woke up Emmy, so it was NOT a good start to the morning!

I figured it was not a good sign when 15 minutes later the plumber reappeared to say he needed to go get some help. Yes, indeed, the sewer line was quite full and backed up, most probably by roots, which we had suspected. There was no way to clear the blockage from under the house without making a mess, which meant he needed to dig out in the yard. So off he went to find help. An hour or so later he returned, help-less, but began digging alone, only to quickly find sewage in the ground. That's right. POOP IN THE FRONT YARD. The line has, in fact, ruptured. He said it was good we called when we did, but I can't help but wonder, what if we'd called a week ago?

So, here I sit awaiting Ken-the-plumber's return with additional help and a tractor to dig a big hole by the house, mess up the yard, and then leave me with a big whopping bill. Thank goodness it's tax return time. That at least makes all this poop slightly less unpleasant to deal with.