Embracing January: Bear Hunting
Last Thursday, my younger sister called for mutual motivation to get our houses clean. We enthusiastically made our lists (I ignored the fact that I have four children under age four, which often renders list-making a ridiculous exercise), and we started wrapping up the phone call. I haven’t been so pumped up to scrub bathrooms in a good long time.
Any mother of young children should know better than to have a long, involved conversation on the phone.
Especially when potty training. And most especially when potty training three preschoolers at once.
When all three kids are on relatively the same biological schedule, it can become difficult to keep up with, the… uh… immediate aftermath of each potty training “event.” Occasionally it happens that one trainee may escape without having been properly fumigated yet.
Welcome to a morning at my house. Aren’t you glad you stopped by?
Thursday morning, as I finished my phone call, a diaper went missing… the culprit cheerily shrugging shoulders in response to my shocked queries.
“WHERE IS YOUR DIAPER??!”
(Cheery shoulder shrug.)
“Um… I dunno!”
Things like this never happen in isolation. While I’m cleaning up one crisis, another is being pasted on the wall in honey, or scrawled in loving heart shapes on furniture. This morning, a second trainee simultaneously attempted an independent potty training run – success! And then struggled (unsuccessfully, do I even have to add) to make a clean break from the toilet seat… quite possibly the grossest part of potty training.
Somebody help me…
On a morning like this, it is entirely possible – although completely unprecedented and unexpected – that an unwiped wanderer might be discovered…
A new to-do item landed itself a spot at the top of my Thursday list: Burn bedding.
Some days I feel like every clean, delicate, feminine nerve ending that ever resided in this body has been frayed, frazzled, and cauterized. I really do try to read reflective meditations on rosy pictures of motherhood. I make it my goal, in theory, to aim for the ideal. Most days, though, a sense of humor is the highest form of meditation I can muster.
Thursday morning, I threw everything in the wash, loudly resolving to send all my kids to the bears, who, sensibly, take care of these matters outside.
Apparently this disturbed my sensitive eldest daughter (not implicated in any of the morning’s business). She ventured up, as the washing machine began its “heavy-duty” fury.
“Mom,” she said, obviously trying to determine whether to worry or to laugh.
“Mom, do I make you happy?”
How a child can turn frazzled nerves into a melted mound of mush.
If only she could know.
I tried (after we were all clean, presentable, and reassured) to embed a slide show of the photo book of our meandering hike (can it be any other kind of hike, with toddlers?). Until I figure out how to do it, regular photos will have to do. These are all clickable, for larger views, for those who really love lots of pictures of the kids. 🙂
How is it that environment so affects state of mind?
Thanks so much, again, for keeping me company this morning. A bear hunt turned out to be just the thing we needed to clear the air… and our thoughts.
Here’s to a CLEAN and refreshing week!
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