As a mother of two teenagers, an elementary school kid, and twin Kindergarteners...I should be able to handle whatever life throws at me. And I do.
However, not always without the help of a little yelling, throwing a taco or two, and of course...beer.
I have three glorious hours with no children Tuesday through Friday, as the boys are into their second year of preschool. I would like to tell you that I spend this time being constructive...cleaning or organizing. I would even like to tell you I spend this time selfishly...sleeping or reading. However, due to the new baby in the house, I have been pretty busy. Onyx, (don't worry...it is a puppy, not another child that I let my husband name,) is a ball of fuzz with eyes that melt you into forgiving him for pooping in the laundry room...and then eating the poop.
Halloween was cold and rainy, leaving us with plenty of leftover candy. Bailey and Onyx have been taking advantage of this fact.
Bailey will grab suckers from the bowl...and bat them down to the floor.
Then Onyx will unwrap the sucker...and lick it.
Needless to say, the candy has been moved. I wasn't smart enough to move it, however, until about the third sucker.
Luckily he has been good about going in his crate when I have to go pick the boys up from school...because I'm not sure I could have handled coming home to something disgusting after the boys showed me their project from school today. The letter of the week is "H," so they do various activities that incorporate the letter and letter sound. I would describe the project...but I think it would be best to just post a picture:
Yes...those are "Hairy H's." No, I do not know where they got the hair from...and I'm not sure I want to know. I think that these might skip the refrigerator and go straight to the circular file.
I thought that this might be the most unsettling thing I would encounter today...but as anyone with children knows, never, ever think that things could not get worse.
I walked down the hallway, talking to my mother on the phone, and noticed a puddle on the floor...that looked like it was coming from under the door to the bathroom. My first thought was puppy pee. Upon closer inspection, I realized that even the puppy could not pee that much...and the door was closed, and I could tell the light was on in the bathroom. I knocked on the door. Owen answered.
"Mommy...my pee came out."
"In the potty?"
"No...on the floor."
I tried to open the door, but it was locked.
"Owen...," I said, "open the door."
"I can't...it's locked."
"Can you unlock it?"
My mom asked if I needed to go, trying not to laugh. I told her good-bye, and tried to convince Owen that he could unlock the door. I finally gave up, and ran to look for the little metal key that unlocks all the doors in the house. In the meantime, Owen was getting frantic.
"MOMMY!!! I CAN'T GET OUT!! MY PEE-PEE IS ON MY FEET!"
I finally found the key, and opened the door, to see Owen standing in the middle of his puddle of pee.
"Just...stay there. Hold on...don't go anywhere!" I was imagining wet footprints up and down the hallway.
As I ran to find some paper towels, I heard a crash. I ran back to find Owen sitting in his puddle of pee.
"Mommy, I slipped on my pee!"
Onyx came running around the corner to see what the fuss was about and skidded across the floor...and into the wall. Before I could catch him, he was already running off, leaving little pee paw prints all over the kitchen floor.
I'm not sure which is worse to clean...a puppy or a preschooler.
I definitely think I will be taking a nice, long bath tonight as I try not to think about hairy H's and puddle-skating puppies.