The Power of a Potty (or Power of a Smell Part II)

Let me start by explaining my absence in blogging... one word: sleep. I have figured out that my body actually likes this phenomena and have temporarily adjusted my 1 am bedtime. But don't worry, I'm sure my mind will once again race and I'll be back at the computer writing out meaningless babble more frequently. That and the fact that I am DVR watching one of my two TV shows I still allow myself to watch - "So you Think you can Dance?" It's a sin, I know. Cause one shouldn't covet. And not only am I wishing my body could do the things those girls can do, but I'm wishing my rear could just fit into some of those costumes. But then again, I guess that would involve exercise, which we all know I am allergic to.

*If you are wondering, the other show would be American Idol. Can't sing, can't dance. So why not torture myself watching people who can? I made a moral decision to refrain from my old favorites of Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives, etc. - as I can only take so much political correctness packed into a prime time hour. Can't say I have missed them much either.

So finally to this post - I am SO proud of myself. The city girl has done went and gone country. Or back to the country I guess. (O.k., so I've never really been city unless you count the 3 minutes we lived in Columbia.) For July 4th, we decided that since all family was MIA, we would look into campgrounds. As long as they had showers and bathrooms, I was game.

At the last minute, some friends invited us on an annual family camping trip. And the worry begins: What if there are no bathrooms? what if they don't like us? What if we starve because I have no idea how to cook without my internet recipes???

But - truth be told - we had an excellent time. There were about a zillion kids for the children to play with, and they pretty much made themselves invisible in the woods, streams, and on the field playing ball. I actually got a book read which was a major accomplishment. We even did fine in our tent, my first tent experience.

Our new friends had planned a birthday party for the 3 kids that had birthdays that week and the boys had an excellent time playing party games. However, I was emotionally damaged by the disguises as they brought back memories of my four-eyed elementary school pictures. And the nose - my grandmother once asked me where I got my big nose from, no kidding. It still hurts to think about. With the big noses, I can actually see a resemblance of myself in the boys.
(Minus the furry eyebrows. I didn't grow those until after high school)

The kids then got to hit their first pinata. Do my kids never get out of the house? Where have pinatas been all our lives??? (If you look closely, the Hawaiian print shorts up front belong to little Braeden's behind. Smart boy - if you're too short - just leap over everyone else to snag some candy!)

I also learned that my middle son is destined to be a pyromaniac. At least he wasn't one of the kids putting crawdads on stakes to watch them roast alive and later eat them. Ewwwww. To go along with his new pyromaniac status, a tattoo was in order. I might give him the goth clothes and the black eyeliner for his next birthday if his interests persist, supportive mother that I am.


So I know you are just itching to know - what about the POTTY?? SO - we were lucky to have little quaint "potty houses". Let it be known - I have squatted in the woods plenty of times in my past. From my childhood on the farm, to some pretty wild ECU Pirate football games and Jimmy Buffet concerts that I would rather not think about. So being able to sit vs. squat was high on my list of luxuries.

These little potty houses were quite charming with their expertly designed sunroof and matching his/her labels. Also expertly designed was the depth at which the hole under those toilets was dug. About 1 foot short of "being within the point of gagging you from the putrid smell". Their smell was so inviting as to waft it's way down the hill to where you were camping, just to remind you that they were available. How sweet!

Those pottys got plenty of laughs and jokes and was the general conversational starter in meeting our new camp associates. And what a great 'IN': we would talk about our facilities and the conversation could quickly be turned to how NICE they were in comparison to the outhouses I visited while in rural Africa. Which then led to my trip, which then led to my volunteer work with Compassion, which then led to Compassion's amazing work in leading children to Christ, one child at a time. All because of a stinky potty. Funny how God can use anything to spread His word isn't it? I think I may have 2 children sponsored as a result.

Maybe I should look into doing a workshop to train other Advocates? Not many people can make that leap from toilets to Christ. I may have found a new calling....
Sponsor a child through Compassion , without having to see and hear about my potty experiences... Believe me - you don't want to know.