piles of poop and target lockdown. yup, tate did it.

I have no pictures for this post.
{you will thank me}

I have been trying to potty train Tate.
he refuses.
and when tate refuses, he will NOT do it.{period}
Well, i decided to play hard ball and put him in underwear against his fit throwing demands.
Lightning Mcqueen underwear...the kind he won't want to doo doo in.
{mistake #1}
We stayed at home that morning.
 His underwear stayed clean and dry.
I was pleased as punch.
{until 7:30 am}
Crew came running into the kitchen.
"Tate got poop on the door."
Now, I can ignore alot of tatteling.
it's a talent. really.
But when the word "poop" is spoken I tune in 110%.
I ran faster than I have in a LOOOOONG time.
The smell hit me first.
I knew it wasn't good.

Tate is a bright boy.
If you had awesome undies, you don't mess in them.
You take them off first.
{obviously}

problem: he was in his bedroom {not bathroom}
solution: just doo doo on the floor. In several piles.
problem: his room is pure carpet.
solution: rub paste into carpet until it "disappears"
problem: there is NO toilet paper to clean oneself in his bedroom.
solution: wipe your hands, legs, and rear end on walls, doors, bed, and shelves.

Do you have the mental picture?
I just barfed in my mouth.
Needless to say I spent most of my morning scouring and scrubbing the pooping bandits room.
Yikes.

Next day...

Tate refused to wear 2 matching tennis shoes.
{but was wearing a diaper...I am not stupid}
{you remember what I said about Tate refusing to do something, right?}
So Tate wore one orange fast shoe and one blue one.
{whatever. battle NOT chosen}
We took Crew to preschool and I took only 2 kids to Target.
2 kids is my break.
easy peasy shopping trip.
{insert evil laughing}
I went to pick out valentines for the girls classes.
in and out kinda deal.
Tate was asking me {repeatedly} to open a box of toy story candy for him.
I told him 700 times a variation of "we have to buy it first. you need to wait."
Each time he pouted and asked again.
Until once.
I spun around and he was gone.
like vanished in 20 seconds or less.
Tate is a hider...and a wanderer, so I didn't panic right away.
I sauntered around saying, "come out now." "let's go!"
After a few minutes I realized this was serious business.
So I , like a good parent, walk to the nearest khaki and red wearing person and say, "I lost my son. But he is a hider, so I need help."
Lady runs to get someone with a walkie talkie and I continue searching and calling.
Why did I have to go to Super Target? It is huge.
Panic really sets in. Usually after this long he would have peeked out.
{it has been minutes. lots of them.}
Walkie talkie man runs back to me and asks for a description.
I felt surreal as I tell them, "caucasion male, black hair,  3 years old, white shirt,  jeans, AND 2 different tennis shoes."
{classy}
{most likely holding a box of to story candy}

The target team searches. I hear walkie talkies all around me repeating his description.
Macy is singing as happy as can be in the cart.
I lay on the floor looking under racks and other "good hiding spots".
After several minutes I hear them say over the walkie.
"close all exits"
Yup, they shut the place down.
Within a minute or so of that a man runs up to me and says, "we found him safe"
I followed him up to the front sobbing.
{classy}
There is my blue and orange shoe little boy.
{smiling}
I hugged that rotten little man and cried like a baby.
I guess I really do love him :)
I hoped for some remorse, maybe a tearful reunion...
all I got was...
"I was hiding and then I got a sticker...but that girl {insert pointing} won't open this candy."
{same stinkin toy story candy we have been asking about for 30 minutes}
The employee who found him said he wandered out from inside a clothing reel and asked her to open the candy. When she replied "no." he tried to wander back to his hiding spot, but she bribed him to stay with a sticker.
{we bought the toy story candy and valentines and left.}
and we lived through another day.

i heart kid leashes.

oh Tater tot!!!!!