And Yet Still More People Who Are Funnier Than Me...

I was going to explain to y'all how I first met Kathy, of the famous Mama Losin' It, but she did a much better job at it. Really, all it boils down to is Jared Leto. Yes, I said Jared Leto. Did y'all know he was reading our blogs around this time last year? Well...he was. Ahem.

Kathy is one of my favorite people because (a) she's seriously hilarious, (b) she makes beautiful babies, (c) she runs a daycare in her home (I admire her sanity!), and (d) she's exactly the kind of person I'd hang with in "real life." And by hang with, I mean we'd stand on the street corner in matching bandanas (are we Crips or Bloods, Kathy?), tossing out such pick-up lines as "Hey baby, you want a date?"

Yeah. That's totally me and Kathy. We're partners in crime like that. Don't judge.

I love you, Mrs. Mama's Losin' It! Thanks for guest posing at Lulaville today. I owe you. In Vegas. Of course.

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Lula asked me to guest post. I feel privileged. Lula and I bonded a
long time ago when Jared Leto befriended me in blogland. Mmhmm, that's
right. Jared LETO. He wanted me. Bad. Real bad.

Anyway, before Lula and I became official fans of one another, a mutual
bloggy friend emailed me about my relationship with Jared and asked me
if I really knew if it was him or not. We began an amateur
investigation and long story, short, the friend was all, "I'm ccing Lula
in on this because she's gonna die and she can help us investigate and
she's just a kick in the pants." And that was it. Lula and I "met" and
she was all, "Hell no, that's not Jared Leto...if it IS him I never said
that and I'll gladly make out with him, but hell no, it's not him."

From that moment on it's been a match made in bloggy heaven. I love
Lula.

So when she asked me to write a post for Lulaville I was all, "OK
Lula...just this once, but you have to give me a topic. I don't want
to go off and offend Lulaville and what-not!" and she was all "Poop."
and I was all "What!?!" and she was all "I want you write about poop."

I don't get it either, but Lula knows Lulaville better than I do and
if you guys are all about poop then darn it, you're getting a post
about poop courtesy of Mama Kat....and here you go:

It was our last trip to Hawaii.

Maile was three, Laina was one and a half and I was six months pregnant with
Kainoa.

Pat was off galavanting around the island in a grass skirt and swinging fire
torches at the base of a volcano, so I was alone with the girls....and
Laina was not so pleasurable to be around.

I decided some time at the school playground would cheer the girls up so I
packed up screaming Laina and smiley Maile and took them to the park.
No idea if that's ok to do, but I like to play "dumb tourist" when we
travel so I opened the gates and escorted my children into the
schoolyard.

No less than 45 seconds later Maile turns to me and says she needs to
go potty. Of course! Doesn't it always happen like that? The thought
of packing screaming Laina BACK up so that Maile could go potty at the
house and then coming BACK to the park again...blech. I didn't want to
do it. I didn't want to deal with Laina. Sooooo...I did the easy
thing. I found a nice little private corner right next to a lovely
classroom and I told Maile it was ok to just squat down and do her
business.
Boys do it all the time, right? I kept hurrying her along because the last thing I
needed was for someone to spot Pat's wife instructing her daughter to
cop a squat next to a lovely classroom. But she was taking way too
long...and then I saw The Face. It's that face she makes every time
she's got a little more in store.

Me: what are you doing???

Maile: (just making The Face)

Me: Are you POOPING!?!!

Maile: (just making The Face and nodding)

Me: Oh Maile!

But it was too late. She shat right there in the school yard next to
that lovely classroom. I took a giant palm leaf and swept the poop
beneath the building. It only seemed right.

And for the rest of the trip Maile desperately tried to share her
adventure with her aunties and uncles.

Maile: I POOP! I poop atta park!!!

Her claims were met with misunderstanding faces. Nobody knew what she
was talking about. Did she have to go to the bathroom? Should they
help her??

Me: No. No, she's just talks about poop when she's excited about
something. Tourettes.

Aunties: How was the park, didn't you go play at the park today???

Maile: I POOP!! Poopy park!! I poop atta park!!!

Me: Yes Maile! Wasn't that exciting to go to the park??

Maile: I poop!!

And wouldn't you know, that even though Maile was too young to fully
explain exactly what she meant at the time, she remembers it to this
DAY! She STILL talks about pooping at the park and how it's ok to poop
at the park because HER mom let her do it.

What was a mother to do do? I hang my head in shame.