Wednesday, October 5, 2011


It's 9:30 at night and I just finished cleaning my children's bathroom.

And by cleaning, I mean Cloroxing.  Yes...the hard stuff.

Today has been a day.  Rachel is cutting eye teeth and is just a joy to be around and she's chosen to throw her joy with full force at my legs whenever I enter into a room and then scream until she's picked up.  Elizabeth has just been...well, she's been 3.  And that involves running, screaming, picking at her cranky sister and apparently coloring on the wall, which I found at about 8:00 tonight.  Who knows when that happened.

And I have to admit to you that I haven't had the best attitude through it all.  Sometimes I can fake it but today was tough.  What made it tougher was that Scott thought he'd be home early and then had a meeting come up at the last minute and had to be late...and it wasn't even that he was all that late, but I'd just gotten my hopes up to see him early.  And I kind of like my husband.

And I especially miss him when our youngest is a kamikaze fit baby and our oldest is drawing on walls.  

So I wasn't in the most positive frame of mind when I scooted my children upstairs to get baths.  It was about 30 minutes earlier than we normally go and I figured that if I could just get them ready for bed, we could read for the rest of the time until Scott got home. 

Now, let me back up for a minute and tell you that my kids are schedule babies.  Have I told you that?  We do things at about the same time every day and we stay on the move.  This is on purpose because it's how I best function - plain and simple.  Now, I'm not talking to the second, but we stay on course most of the time.  We eat close to the same time, nap at the same time, go to bed around the same time...this also positively effects *ahem* bodily functions and those tend to happen close to the same time every day as well.  

I wasn't thinking about how Rachel normally does her thing during the time the girls play after dinner...when I clean up the kitchen...the same kitchen that I cleaned up early tonight while the girls were eating.  So we headed up the stairs and got our pj's out and sat on the potty while the bath filled up.

We've been introducing Rachel to the potty because she's shown some interest and mainly because I cringe at the thought of her in diapers when the new baby is born.  She's gone a couple times, but she doesn't love sitting there for a long time.  Tonight was no exception and she bounced up, ready to get in the tub.  Elizabeth, however, was occupied on the big potty and appeared she would camp out there for some time...singing songs and trying to teach Rachel her letters (Rachel has letters and numbers that stick on the wall of the bathtub that we've been working on far, everything is E...I'm sure Elizabeth had nothing to do with that one).

Now, let me back up one more time and tell you that my kids have a poop face.  They always have, although Elizabeth's has always been worse - turning read and scrunching up her eyes.  My mom and sisters find it hilarious.  Rachel has mostly been a phantom pooper, but if you're watching her closely, you can tell.  So as I turned around from throwing their clothes into the dirty clothes basket, I saw the face beginning on my youngest...

She was in the tub.  

So I grabbed her and stuck her on the little potty (big potty STILL being occupied) just in time for her to make it.  Elizabeth was thrilled.  "Rachel poo-poo in the potty!!  Rachel poo-poo in the potty!!"  Rachel, however, wasn't as excited and jumped up as soon as I let go of her and bounded for the tub once again.  

The routine continued and I ran to get the Lysol wipes to wipe down the little potty when the time came that I could finally dump Rachel's deed and since I had the wipes out, I started on the crusted toothpaste in the sink when I heard my oldest:


Now, some mothers go through their small children's lives and never experience this moment and so farr, I was a member of this oh-so-elite club.  Until tonight.  I grabbed my now-screaming, just having poo-poo'd child out of the tub and tried to devise a game plan.  Everything had poo-poo on it...the letters and numbers, the bathmat, the tub, my child...  And I still wasn't thinking quite straight because actually what was going through my head was, "Where is your daddy??"

So I did the only thing that seemed reasonable and drained the tub...which promptly resulted in poo-poo stuck in the drain.  Joy.  Yanking my oldest off her throne, I marched my two now-wet and screaming children into our master bathroom and proceeded to hose them down and give them the fastest shower/baths known to man.

During which time, my loving husband came in calling, "Where is everybody??"

"Daddy!  Rachel poo-poo'd in the tub!!"  our oldest gleefully reported. 

Rachel confirmed, "Poo-poo, Daddy!  Hi Daddy!!"

To which my husband looked at his tired, pregnant and very cranky wife, looked at his two drowned rats, turned me around with both hands on my shoulders and kissed me square on the lips.  

"I'm sorry I was late," he said.  "I'll get the Clorox."

And that's why I love him.

So let me get to the moral of the story and tell you that I have learned three things from this experience.

1.  Do not get in a rush even on your roughest days.  Because small children do not rush.  They really know no time schedule except their own.

2.  I am fortunate to have a husband that not only works hard for our family but also helps me out at home.  I realize that I am lucky to have an equal partner in the household chores and I am thankful that he gives the girls baths every night, leaving me some quiet to clean up the kitchen (and whatever else is required).  There are very few occasions that I have to "do it all."

3.  I would not recommend giving up sugar at a time that you are surrounded by little children and you are also in a position that you cannot drink wine...

I'm just saying...

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