Scream or Cry?

Ok, so it's the end of the week and time to post about the moment that made me want to scream or cry this week (actually both). Every afternoon Tiernan (10 months) takes a nap, Asher (2 years and in diapers) has quiet time in the play-room, and Zander (5 years and potty-trained) has quiet time in his bedroom. Asher and Zander each get to pick out some toys and books to play with then I close the door and have about one hour to prep for dinner, blog, or in the case of this day take the shower that I didn't get to take that morning. So, after that much-needed shower I'm toweling off in the bathroom and I hear, "Mooooom, I neeeeeed yooou!" I throw my clothes on and run to Zander's room. I open the door and standing before me is Zander naked from the waist down. I notice that he is standing very still and I ask, "Where are your pants, Zander?"
"I had to poop, Mom."
"You had to poop?"
"Yeah, I didn't know I needed to go then I just went."
Meanwhile I'm frantically looking around for signs of this ominous poop. I am not seeing any and I'm trying to decide if that's good or bad when I notice his pants on the floor. I pick them up and out it rolls like a discarded sock, not so ominous anymore. Through the buzzing static in my ears I hear a little giggle off to the side of me. Zander is laughing and I feel like screaming. So I think about how it probably was funny to see me lifting up the pants and having a stinky surprise roll out and try not to scream.
Ten minutes later Zander is cleaned-up and fully clothed and I'm drying my hair when Asher says through the door of the play-room,"Mom, I poopey." So, I open the door expecting to do a routine diaper change and notice that the odor is especially strong.
"Asher where are your pants?" I ask while doing a quick scan for the diaper. Wheeew, I breath a sigh of relief because it is still on his bottom. Then he holds his hands up to my face and says "Mom, I poopey." I now know why the smell is so strong, not only is the diaper poopey, the hands are too. "Eeewww, Asher that is yucky. No, no. We don't touch it," I try to explain as I clean off his hands and change the diaper. I go back into the play-room to get his pants and notice the smell is still strong, but I'm not seeing the source anywhere. Then I see it. There on the back of the door Asher was practicing his finger-painting with a very smelly choice of medium. So I sat down on the floor and felt like crying. There was a little moisture in my eyes, but that could have just been from the fumes, I'm not sure. One thing I do know is that this motherhood thing has quite a learning curve and sometimes I wonder if I'll make it through the day. But then Asher stumbles into the play-room looks at his masterpiece on the door and says, "Yucky, Mommy," and I think "Maybe, I am getting through." So I clean-up and carry-on.