>How do mom’s do it?
We’re in Lowes and Z turns into another ‘thing.’ All of the sudden he’s sitting on the self checkout bagging area. Machine starts talking to me “there’s an unidentified object in the check out area, please remove” Next second, he’s pushing buttons on the computer. And now my order ‘needs assistance.’ That’s not the beginning. In fact, earlier in Lowes, a glance over my shoulder sees both boys hanging on the side of someone’s cart talking to a 2 yr old girl. If you could have seen her eyes, they matched her moms!
At home. “Aunt Hai, I’m done pooping, can you see if I got it all?” I look in the bathroom, see a naked 3 yr old boy, bent over the tub, showing me that he wiped. It needs another swipe. “Ouch, my booty hurts.”
“Wash your hands, please.” Five minutes later I realize that the sound of water is still coming from the bathroom. Z’s still naked. Now playing in the sink, drain plugged.
“Go play.” I walk away for a few minutes and come back towards their rooms. Only to see white paint chips on the floor. BT has sawed the door frame with his plastic tools. Turns out, plastic or metal, they all work. Yesterdays’ explaining that the tools are to be used on their toys and in their rooms, not the hallways, wasn’t enough to remain registered today. 5 yr old memories from short term to long term aren’t what I expected.
Onto lunch. Pizza day. So easy. Yet again, I leave the room and hear the scared, shrinking voice “Hailee, Z spilled his milk.” Another milk spill, we just had one 2 days ago. It’s starting to resemble to gulf coast here.
Sneeze. AAAAAHHHCHOOO! “bless you.” I walk to the sink to rinse the washcloth thats soaked in milk. “I got buggers, can you help me?” Taking a kleenex over I assist in a 3 snort blowout.
The boys are sick. We can no longer play continuously outside because it’s cold and windy. They’re restless. Chasing and torturing Ginger, Angies dog. Angie left Ging with us when she went to India. They chant, then run; then scream, chant and run “Ginger Baby” as they corner her under the kitchen table. She snips at them. Her warning for the annoyance of the little fingers constantly pulling her ears and tail. They giggle. And transform into savage like animals who want more. I walk in and make my presence noticed. They scatter like flys in the sight of a swatter.
Next a high pitched scream. Something out of a horror film. Walking into the next room I hear BT has convinced Z that this reusable water bottle has lemonade inside, when in reality it’s only water. But to a 3 yr old, it’s INCONCEIVABLE that he doesn’t have the same! A temper tantrum ensues.
This is a constant game. ‘How to have fun, maintain peace and sanity in a house with 2 boys.
Afternoon nap time comes and I pass out on the couch. They wake me up 5 different times tattle tailing on each other OR from chanting “Ginger Baby.” I give in and get up.
During bike time, Z pulls up to the sidewalk “I need to go poddie” so I say to go in and take care of it. Z calls back “I need help,” I reply “you can do it.” He starts to whine but goes in. BT comes up moments later and asks where’s Z. He goes in to check on him, not seconds later he’s running outside, “he had an accident.” REALLY. My head hangs and I walk inside.
Toilet paper is thrown all over the floor. He’s there, pants off, winter coat still on. Pee everywhere. Z whines and says he had an accident and “it’s all over” Literally buddy I agree. Pee is on his jacket, down his legs, on his socks, both sides of the toilet and while we go in his room to get more undies, I notice to enormous spot on his sweatshirt. Wondering, did he make any inside that porcelain bowl?
Randomly during the day I notice them playing in the kitchen with Ginger, another cornering, poor dog. They pet nice. Talk to her like they’re all dogs for a bit. Then Z’s eyes light up. IDEA! He walks over to the oven, opens it and says “Ginger, come here.”
Bath time consists of spills of water, then a song to say “accidents happen and that’s okay!” as I’m on my hands and knees for the second time today. Cleaning up an ocean of water and a tipped over bottle of shampoo. That’s after BT told on Z for sticking his washcloth in the toilet and washing with in. Not once, not twice, but 5 times.
After nighttime Uno, it’s time for brushing teeth, books and bed. You’d think bushing teeth seems harmless until you find that the 3 yr old is chasing the dog, swinging the toothbrush like a sword. The energy flow continues during book time. With feet kicking, pointing and random interruptions.
Prayers are hilarious. “God bless mommy, daddy, Brett, and Zach. Ginger, Aunt Hailee, her friends and the soldiers. Papa Keith and Kevin. How was work?”
(At least he understands that staying home IS work) Kel, love your kids!