Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Here comes trouble


You might look at this face and think he's cute. Which of course you're spot on about. He was saying "cheeeeese!" as I took the picture. Miracle of miracles, he'e eyes are open! He usually keeps them shut tight when we try to take his picture. I don't know why his eyes are watery, he wasn't sad, just leaky eyes I guess. Not only is this little kid cute, he is full of mischief and trouble! I'm talking trouble with a capitol T! You know those times when small children "help" and you find yourself thinking that what they are doing is actually no help at all? Yes, of course you do! We've all had moments of feeling like we're going to explode because we could make dinner or cookies or the bed or clean up the toys or unload the dishwasher(you get it) about a million times faster than this little person is doing it. Well, with this kid, I don't just think it. I'm pretty sure that at least 700 times a day he hears, "actually, that's not helping at all".  I feel like by the time I've asked him to stop doing whatever he's doing, fixed what he broke (yesterday he pulled out all the shoes and then disassembled the shoe cubby. No lie.),  cleaned up what he dumped or put away whatever sharp object he's be running with, he's moved on to something else. I'm not kidding. One of his favorite things to do is push the stool over to the counter where there is a light switch he can reach whilst standing on said stool. He stands there and flips the light on and off. Admittedly, that's not that big of a deal. What is a big deal is that he loses interest in the light fairly quickly. He then moves onto the toaster, which he loves to push the thing down and turn the toaster on. Now, I don't want you to think that I stand back and let him do this of my own free will and choice. No sir, I do not. He waits until I'm knee deep in wiping up the water he just dumped all over the floor. You might be thinking, don't give him water in a cup. I don't! We give it to him in a water bottle. The kind that you have to screw the lid onto. The kind that adults use. He has learned how to unscrew it and with a smirk on his face dumps the entire thing on the floor. So, while I'm cleaning it up, he takes advantage and starts for the light switch/ toaster spot. While I'm cleaning up the small lake that is now rolling along the grout of the kitchen, the lights are being turned on and off in rapid sequence. Just when I think I might have a seizure from the lights, it stops and I hear the toaster being played with. I leave the water and pray that I'll have time to finish cleaning it up before someone slips and falls and cracks their head open on the tile. Have I mentioned that I hate tile? I hate tile. I digress, by the time I make it the five feet to remove this small child from the toaster he has somehow managed to not only play with the toaster one handed, but using his other hand he has gotten into the knife drawer and has pulled most of them out, might even be sucking on one while asking for an apple. Put the toaster in a cupboard you say? He loves to play in the cupboards! He would just pull it out, drag it over to the air hockey table, unplug the table and try to plug the toaster in. No, I'm not exaggerating, something else he loves to do is plug and unplug the air hockey table. Put the knives where he can't get to them. There. Is. No. Such. Place! I take him down, put the stool away, clean up the knives just to turn and see that he has moved to the other cupboard and has pulled out all the pans and lids, has one foot in a pan and another one on a lid and is trying to use them as skates. I have him help me clean it up and as I'm closing the cupboard, he has opened the dishwasher and pulled the bottom rack out.

Off he goes. He loves to push it running full speed around the kitchen. Our downstairs is a loop and so he tries to go in circles. Truthfully folks there are some days that I just don't care. Yes young one, please push that rack around the house if it means you aren't playing with the knives or the toaster or the toilet. The toilet. I have a love hate relationship with the toilet. I love that it's convenient and that it flushes. On the other hand I hate that it's convenient and that it flushes. M and K put one car in the toilet when they were little. K dropped it in but only after M told him to. I fished it out, cleaned it well enough that surgery could have been performed on it and gave it back to them. I told them not to put toys in the toilet, they said ok and that was the end of it. Well, except for the one time K wanted to know if undies would flush down, they do. Anyway, they didn't play in the toilet. Little B on the other hand L.O.V.E.S to play in the toilet. I try not to let him out of my site during his waking hours because if I do, he'll go play in the toilet. If I notice that he stopped running around the loop of the downstairs while screaming at the top of his lungs, which is also high on his list of things he likes to do. So, if he doesn't finish a lap, we have a conversation that goes something like this.
Me:"B?!"
Little B:"Huh?"
Me:"What are you doing?!"
Little B: no response
Me:" Get out of the toilet!"
At which point he comes shooting out of the bathroom. This is a true story folks. It happens at least once a day. Here is where I fall. In the morning after breakfast I send M and K upstairs to brush their teeth, make their beds and get dressed. Well, little B follows them. (It's not like I'm laying on the couch wrapped in a blanket sleeping. I'm cleaning up breakfast and yelling out the time. If I don't yell out how long they have until we leave, they won't be ready on time. I also have to clean up whatever disaster little B has created in the half an hour he's been awake.) He loves to walk around with his toothbrush so he can brush his teeth. He loves to get his socks that he wants to wear for the day and throw them over the banister along with his blanket and sometimes if we're lucky, his pillow and his monkey and clothes etc. etc. etc. I can hear him talking with M and K, but as soon as it's quite I know that something is going down. I might even hear K saying,"B! stop playing in the toilet! Mommy! B is playing in the toilet again." I go upstairs, scrub little B down and tell him not to play in the potty. At which point he always, without fail asks, "why?" If I don't hear the silence quick enough or if both M and K are in their rooms, then it's almost a given that I will find a toy floating in a toilet. The pool toys are usually the victims. I found two of those squishy balls you can take to the pool and squeeze and they fill with water and then you throw them, you know what I mean right? Well, I found two of those in the toilet one day. I took them out and threw them away. Well, a couple days later M came and said that the toilet was clogged. I said I would come fix it, but of course I forgot. Well, that night I lifted the toilet lid and saw that the water was all the way to the top. I told B that M had told me it was clogged but I forgot about it. B being the hero that he is said he would fix it. We were talking about what could be clogging it, because the water was clean so we didn't think it was, well, ya know. Anyway I just shook my head and then my eyes got real big. I knew what was clogging it. I looked in the garbage can and sure enough, one of the swimming balls was missing. Little B had come into the bathroom, stuck his hand in the garbage can, gotten the swimming ball and flushed it. Not great! Thankfully when B plunged it, it went all the way down. There is nothing that is safe from being dunked by little B.

Case and point. This is his monkey. He loves his monkey. He calls it his baby and will carry it around with him, well, until he throws it across the room, or at whoever is in his line of fire. This is not the first time his monkey has taken the plunge. The first time we couldn't find it before he went to bed. he doesn't have to have it to go to sleep, he just likes to. We really couldn't find it. We looked all over the house. We ended up just putting him to bed without it. After he was in bed I had this sinking feeling that we should look in the toilets. I walked into the master bathroom, lifted the lid and found his poor sad monkey shoved inside. I don't know when he did it. That particular day had been a busy one, so he really was with me or next to me all day. The monkey had soaked up a lot of water, so it had to have been there for hours. I'm guessing he did it while M and K were getting ready for school. We pulled it out and put it in the washer. This morning I was folding laundry. He told me that he was going to go get his baby. I watched him walk down the hall, but instead of turning left to go into his room, he turned right. That's where the bathroom is. I went running down the hall, but it was too late. He must have put it in there earlier this morning. When I got to the bathroom he was trying to pull it out. I told him to leave it so I could hold it above the garbage can as I walked it down the hall to the washer. The good news is that the toilets in our house are usually flushed after they are used, so at least the water is clean for whatever toy is going for a swim that day. Poor little toys! I love little B! Heaven knows that, but sometimes he makes my hair turn from brown into bright white! 

 


3 comments:

  1. Little B just made my day! I love reading your stories, because I hear your voice in my head and it makes me really happy. I wish you were here so little B and Sean could play in the toilet together. I have no doubt they would flood the house.

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  2. LOL!!! I'm dying here! Ahhhh... so funny :-D

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  3. I really do feel your pain but I'm laughing so hard I'm crying and can't breathe!

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