Shitty night.

Literally.

So, I come in from walking the dog (who didn't, by the way).  And there's the pixie, standing with her feet as wide apart as she could get them, with a lump in the back of her pants.  She looks up at me, "Mommy, I gotta go poop!"

I drag the dog back to her crate (dangerous stuff in the kitchen that I don't want her into, and I can't put up, at present--like a sewing machine that needs to go to the repairman), and holler at the pixie to wait, that I'll be right there.

If I'd been half a second longer, there would have been a good-sized turd dumped out of her panties onto the floor.  As it was...I only had to clean up her, her panties, and her potty chair.  But there was a lot smeared everywhere.

I still haven't cleaned up the panties. 

This comes after a long, long day of very bad behavior, on both kids' parts.  Lots of screaming, fighting, begging for stuff they see on TV (or anything else they can think of), lots of the imp telling the pixie what to say, or the pixie telling the imp what to do...and the imp shoving the pixie down when she was heading for the bathroom, and making the mess I was going to have to clean up even worse than it had been.  

I do believe that I shall have yet another drink* tonight, after the kids go to bed.  And it's not going to be a small one.

*Yes, I said another.  I woke up with a severe back cramp that wouldn't go away...until I had that drink.  Before the drink, I could barely move.  Afterwards, I was still sore, but not in agony.