Two Year Olds and the Time-Space Continuum

You are not alone if you cannot figure out how a small two year person can make a huge mess in an unbelievably short amount of time. I haven't blogged in a while and I am sure this is why. I am running all the time, that is, unless I can get all three of us to nap together. Not today, which is definitely the reason why I was so grouchy this evening. And the 2 year old is the one who got the recharge. You know, the one who makes the huge messes in a time that is not relative to the amount of mess. We have crappy toilets. Those low flow kind that you have to flush twice to get anything to go down. While the two year old is not potty training, he is in love with the flush. Much to the dismay of his three year old sister who is still on the potty. The other day I heard a flush, then giggling by the 2 yo, panic by the 3 and the sound of feet stomping in a puddle. I rush in there to see the little boy jumping in the puddle. The puddle of poopy water. Thank God she didn't have diarrhea. Crap! I had even moved my garden gnome from the shelf above the tub to the floor in the bathroom keep him from getting wet - this certainly was not what I had in mind. I plunge the toilet, disrobe the kids so they aren't running around on my white bedroom carpet and I grab every available towel to start containing the mess. It's not like I don't do 50 loads of gross laundry every day. And it makes you wonder, am I alone in this stuff? Am I the only mom on the planet who is dealing with something like this? She was on the potty and I was coming back to wipe her butt - how does such chaos occur in the second it takes to see who is calling on the phone or fold another shirt on the bed in the adjoining room?



Yesterday I witnessed that there is at least one other mom who is dealing with this issue of motherhood. Nothing like a two year old to make you feel, what ever profession one may have spent years cultivating after the education to land it, like an incompetent fool. I was at the gym and walked out with this other mom who I really like. I think, given more time, we could be good friends. We are about the same age, as are our kids and have similar educational backgrounds. We frequent the same grocery store which happens to have kid care so that we can relish no more than an hour and a half of blissful shopping alone and sometimes sit next to the fire place, sipping on some Starbucks. We walk over to the gym kids care center to pick up our kids. She takes her two year old to the potty while I am wrangling mine into his coat. We are still sort of chatting back and forth and I think she takes a moment to help her older daughter with her jacket. She actually leaves a foot inside the bathroom while she is doing this. I work on getting my daughter into her coat and am gathering up my stuff when I hear this mom say "Oh!" and her daughter's name. I turn to look and mom is gathering a football field of toilet paper off the floor and telling her daughter to put down the toilet plunger, that you can't put it in your mouth because it is icky. First of all, I didn't think there was that much toilet paper on the roll, even the industrial size. And then, how can one properly explain to a 2 year old how incredibly gross the toilet plunger is and all the reasons why you don't want to touch it, never mind lick it? And I wonder to myself, how did she make such a big mess - her mom was right there? I didn't hear a thing, no clue as to the chaos unleashing in there. She was really calm, mom was. Me, I was laughing. Bent over, hands on knees, tears streaming, unable to breathe, causing a scene laughing. In fact, I giggled about it the rest of the day. I told her I thought I was the only one. I shared with her my shoe licking story. It makes no sense. These little people are powerful mess-makers and are lightening quick about it. Is there a fast forward button on him that I haven't found? Is he wired like the bunny on the Comcast High Speed Internet commercials? Does he have a little Usain Bolt in his britches? You may have a plan, but give them 30 seconds and you are off down another highway, without a paddle.

And so, if you are reading this at the end of another day when you really didn't get anything of note done, but yet you are bone tired and your mind is craving something intelligent to process (you won't find that here) know that you are not alone. If you have cleaned up some bizarre mess and prayed that your kids won't come down with some horrible bacteria-induced illness, then you are not alone. If you have wondered what type of restraint was legal so that you could go to the bathroom by your self and have them remain safe and mess-free, then you are not alone.
And if by chance you figure out how they do it, let me know.