Tuesday, September 17, 2013

The Great Bathtub Disaster of 2013

My least favorite chore for the last several weeks has been cleaning up all of the charming little surprises that the puppy leaves in the house.  These have become less and less frequent as time goes on, but, you can understand, with three children in this house in various stages of potty learning, why I wouldn't want to be cleaning up after one more.

This evening I learned a new definition of perspective: how I feel about cleaning up a little puppy pee after the Great Bathtub Disaster of 2013.

It started as a normal bath night.  The kids were all cycling through the tub.  Eloise likes the bath so much that she gets in at the beginning and stays in until everyone is clean.  Eloise and Benjamin were both clean, and I was rinsing Eloise and preparing to get B out of the bath when I noticed that at one end of the tub the water was a little murky. I think you know what that means.

Pandemonium ensued.  Two naked children had to be yanked from the tub, wrapped in towels, and neglected while the tub was drained, toys were washed, washcloths thrown into the diaper pail, and tub bleached and scoured.  Benjamin crawled out of his towel, rolled in some dust bunnies behind a door, peed his way across the carpet, and slipped in his own pee on the bathroom floor, bumping his head.  Baby is screaming.  Eloise ran to the kitchen before she was dry and slipped on her wet feet.  Eloise is screaming.  I determined that the bath sponge that B was sitting on is a total loss and took it outside to the garbage can.

Two screaming babies had to be calmed while the water was running for a second bath.  Both had to be scrubbed again from head to toe.  Imagine all of this while Jared is bobbing around in the background asking 200 times in a row, "Why did B poop in the tub? But WHY?"

On an ordinary night, Todd arrives home in time to dry the children from their baths and help them into pajamas.  Alas, this was no ordinary evening.  This was Todd's once a year performance review deadline, so he was at work for an extra hour and a half.  It's just as well, though.  Had he been home, I might have been cleaning up vomit along with everything else.

 When the children were all washed, dried, diapered, and dressed, they were extremely wound up.  Winding down included a violent two year old tantrum, some vicious sibling biting by one toothless ten month old, and some four year old sillies (including, but not limited to jumping off the arm of the couch, and singing every word to "The Spirit of God" by reading it out of the hymnal).

In all of this mayhem, there is no way we could have heard the puppy whining by the back door.  Wiping up the dog accident while two children snored in bed and one, in Daddy's arms, sucked peacefully on his bedtime bottle hardly seemed like a chore at all.  

If there is one thing I have learned from parenting, it is that children can always make a bigger mess.  Still, I believe that I can, with confidence, label this evening as The Great Bathtub Disaster of 2013.


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