Don't let this sweet, innocent smile fool you. It's secretly hiding a mess mastermind! Thanks to Mr. J, I've enjoyed an unusual number of messes within the past week. I thought I'd share some of the highlights...
PRETZELS & MILK
Last Thursday morning the mess-a-thon began with a classic crumb dump. I was upstairs just finishing my makeup (very hurriedly, mind you. I'm pretty good at doing the whole thing in under three minutes) when I heard a dumping sound. As I thumped down the stairs with mascara in hand, the possibilities raced through my mind. Cereal? No, it didn't sound quite like cereal. Crackers? No... I stopped halfway down and peered over the banister. Pretzels! Hundreds of stick pretzels sat on the living room carpet, looking like a pile of miniature logs. The little woodcutter was squatting next to the pile, bag in hand, picking curiously through the mess. "Oh Jared!" I cried. "Did you make a mess?" He helped me put most of them back in the bag, and I grabbed the final handfull that had made the most carpet-contact and walked to the trash can to throw them away. By the time I came back, Jared had grabbed his stuffed animal Thumper and was brushing his big rabbity feet across the pile of salt that remained, watching the grains jump around like popcorn. "Oh no!" I grabbed Thumper and told Jared that this wasn't such a good idea--we needed to vacuum up the salt. I started the vacuum cleaner and managed to keep Jared away from the outlet while I extracted the salt grains from the carpet. As I wheeled the vacuum back to the coat closet, a movement in the kitchen caught my attention. It was you-know-who, bouncing Thumper in a small puddle of milk on the floor. Milk?? How did he--then I remembered. It was left over from when Jared threw his sippie cup overboard at breakfast. Pretzel salt was one thing. A milky splashing spree from Thumper was another. I confiscated Thumper, rinsed off his bottom and feet, left him on a HIGH shelf to dry, and (a little huffily, I admit) cleaned up the milk.
MOUNTAIN CLIMBER
All children, it seems, like to climb. I even heard from another mom that climbing is somehow essential to a child's development. Well, if that's so, then Jared must be approaching a developmental milestone because he has a new found desire to climb. Chairs, beds, the table--he's tried them all (I still have memories of one of my younger sisters running around on top of our kitchen table, so I know this climbing thing is not unprecedented).
Late Thursday afternoon a friend of mine dropped by for a visit and to discuss some business for Young Women. I'm always happy for the chance to talk with another mother (or any non-toddler/infant, for that matter), so I was enjoying a conversation with her while our children played with Jared's toys. Jared must have realized that I wasn't on my guard, because the next thing I know, he's standing on top of our computer desk! How did he get up there? The computer chair was "boomed," as it always is to deter any climbing acts... but I had left the piano bench in front of the computer, and he had used that to get up. Now if every time Jared required redirecting I abandoned my conversation and focused solely on him, I wouldn't have spoken to anyone for weeks (ok, so that's an exaggeration. But not too far off). So I tried to continue talking while gently pulling him down from the desk. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he was back up on that piano bench and gaining elevation. The second time I pulled him down (and push the piano bench back where it's supposed to go), he had something purple in his teeth--my glittery Styrofoam Easter egg! (FYI: Jared has a long-standing addiction to foam products. He can't resist biting into them, be it Nerf balls, the cushy handles on our umbrella stroller and our broom, or--prepare yourself--the foam insulation tubing around the air conditioning hookups. So you see, a foam Easter egg wasn't too bad in the scale of things). I wrested it from his teeth and examined the damage: two double teeth marks. At least it was just from the dollar store, I thought to console myself. He protested as I took it away, but why should he? I know he got in at least two good chomps.
"HEWLP, MAMA. STUCK!"
Before Allison was born, one of my biggest concerns about having a toddler and a newborn was what to do with the toddler while I'm feeding the baby. Luckily, Jared's usually pretty self-entertaining while I'm nursing Allison. But there have been a few occasions when he's run amok... notably this past Tuesday.
Just a little background: Jared loves to climb up on the toilet and "wash his hands" in the bathroom sink. It's become his little reward after sitting on the potty. That morning I was feeding Allison on the couch, and Jared opened the bathroom door and turned on the sink. I had two options. I could heft myself and Allison up off the couch and walk over to investigate (an option that I choose quite often). Or I could let him wash away. He was in a short-sleeved shirt and there was nothing dangerous on the counter, so I chose the latter option and turned back to my book. Five minutes later I heard a little voice saying, "Uh-oh. Hewlp--Mama. Stuck." I set Allison down and walk over to the bathroom doorway. Jared was sitting crosslegged in the sink. He fit so snugly that he couldn't get out. He looked over his shoulder at me and said quite placidly, yet with definite concern, "Mama. Stuck. Hewlp." I laughed, pulled him out, and changed his socks and pants, which were thoroughly soaked. That afternoon we drove out to Meijer and bought equipment to child-proof our door knobs--and it's worked like a charm. It's been three days since then, and he still gets a serious look on his face and says "Uh-oh. Boom" when he sees the bathroom sink.
PYREX MEETS TILE
Wednesday evening at 5:00 found me standing dutifully in the kitchen. After a day of mopping, grocery shopping with two children, and calling in to pay our hospital bill, I had somehow found time to make bread and get it in the oven before dinner time. Chicken was thawing in the microwave, the green beans were already snapped and washed, and I hadn't even pulled out a movie for Jared yet! I was feeling quite accomplished.
However, this feeling shattered as the sound of breaking glass met my ears. I spun around to see Jared standing wide-eyed amid a sea of glass shards. He was holding a plastic measuring cup--the one the glass cup had been sitting in on top of the counter. I still underestimate his reach. Fortunately he had his shoes on, and extra-fortunately it was a nice day outside. I promptly carried him outside and locked the sliding glass door so he couldn't come back into the kitchen until I had cleaned up the mess.
The measuring cup had shattered at a juncture in our kitchen floor that allowed the splinters to fly to the far reaches of all three corners of our kitchen floor. Hence I had to vacuum the entire floor (and shake out Allison's baby seat, which was sitting near the scene of the accident). A little while later and the floor was clean. I put the vacuum away and sighed. It was 5:30. Maybe I would still have time to cook the... Waaaa! Oops. Time to feed Allison. Looks like we'll be having bread for dinner tonight.
EPILOGUE
I didn't have time to write about Jared climbing into his high chair unsupervised, the mud we encountered on each trip out the door, the tricks Jared has taken to in the bathtub, or what happens if we set the table before he is strapped into his high chair. The truth is, Jared is wonderful, despite all the messes he makes. But I figure that writing about the humorous, challenging things will win me more blog readers than will, say, bragging that he knows all his letters and colors and has the cutest smile in the Midwest. ;) So hooray for messes. I suppose they keep childhood real and keep Mom working to learn the virtue of patience.
It was great to see the Stevens family, and Allison had fun playing with her cousin Lizzie. I also enjoyed the mommy-daughter time we got together on the plane (she was actually really good on the plane--phew!). Thanks, Jenny and Dave, for a great weekend in Washington!
