Showing posts with label potty child-proofing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label potty child-proofing. Show all posts

Friday, January 9, 2009

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.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

If I've said it once....

I have said it a million times:



Leave the bathroom door closed.



Cole likes to play in the water. Any water. The toilet has water! Okay, how gross is that? No matter how often I clean the toilet. Our toilets are crappy and I mean that. They are the low-flow kind that helps you "save" water unless of course you have to hold the handle down and flush it two or more times to send it away. They get plugged at least every couple of days. And the older kids are not interested in making sure the bowl is empty before they leave. I have been asking nicely for as long as Cole has been crawling or couch surfing to please keep the door closed. I have heard the warnings about how toddlers can fall into a bucket of water or toilet head first and don't have the upper body strength to push themselves out again. I hate thinking about it. I baby-proofed the house as much as I possibly could but it really doesn't matter if you don't have everyone on board with that plan.


Finally, something to illustrate my point:

These are Daddy's glasses. He was watching them while I was in the shower. He decided to go out and mow the lawn. Did he tell me he was leaving? The kids were in the bathroom with me for the moment, but were wandering freely back and forth. (Leaving the bathroom door wide open so all my nice steamy warm air was escaping while leaving the cold front right outside the shower door.) Ryan came back in and said that she couldn't find him anywhere. (Where could he be, he supposed to be watching the kids?) I told her to see if he was in the bathroom. Apparently he had been there because he left the door open. Then he went outside. YOU CLOSE THE FRONT DOOR WHEN YOU LEAVE..... same concept!!!!

I found Cole playing in the toilet. Thank God it had been flushed properly. Later on DH told me that I heard him go outside and mow the lawn. Really? Because I am pretty sure I didn't hear anything other than the sound of the shower, the kids making their usual din, and the sound of my own voice over theirs. I guess I am supposed to just know where he is and what he is doing. I think I'll try that next weekend when he is in the shower and sneak off to Starbucks. You heard me leave!

So I grabbed my camera, took a couple of shots and left them there. :D