I like to call what I have "dumb luck"...I define this luck as: "only someone as dumb as I could have luck like this." Murphy has officially set up shop in my life and made himself at home. I have learned to accept this fact and almost embrace it. I don't know how. Purportedly because it gives me something to write about and therefore can't be a total loss. If I can make someone else laugh (even if I am the only one laughing) at my misfortune then it can't really be considered a "bad" thing, right? Friday was one of those prime examples.
My kids enjoy taking showers with me. Another chapter in what I am sure could be called "Too Much Information" but this is where the story starts and omitting it is just not an option. I don't bark about this shower imposition too much because I have the two of them wrangled in a confined space for at least 15 minutes and I am almost certain nothing bad can happen to either of them. They splash and spit and wash and I actually get the opportunity to dig myself out of my previously acclaimed "troll" status. I see it as a win-win. But Friday was a special day. I wanted to get some extra "work" done after said bath session as Hubba Hubba and had a hot date set for the following night. Being that I generally feel less than lovely I thought I would take some extra steps on Friday to ensure loveliness on Saturday . Nothing major. Just a little facial of sorts. So we hop out of the shower and there are towels all around. The male midget quickly throws his to the wind and takes off streaking. The girl follows suit. So this gives me approximately 2.3 seconds before things go awry. But because Saturday was a special day I assume that the planets will align and all shenanigans will be put on hold for the measly 30 seconds that is required for applying this facial exfoliating mask. Boy was I wrong. I slathered the mask on lickety split and then ran out in the other room to make sure that the minis were in line. The girl I don't fret about...it's the boy who worries me. So I walk into the living room to find 2 naked munchkins standing over a dumped bowl full of foam and felt fish. My first reflex was "whew"...not 2 seconds after that sigh of relief did my boy embark on pissing out those fish like they were a forest fire and he was Smokey the Bear! I dropped my towel and screamed out "Noooo!" like only a frantic mother could. The girl jumped back about 5 feet and was begging "Mommy why is Chase peeing on the flooooor?" Upon our hollering he sucked it up and stopped "the rain." Then as I sat explaining to him that we don't pee on the floor and that we do it in the potty what does he do but unleash again. I tried to stop the "stream" by holding his shirt over it but that just caught the slurry and back washed it more than stopped anything. So I scooped him up and ran him to the toilet and sure enough once I sat him down he looked up at me with his sweet little man voice and said "All Done!" GRRRR! Seriously? In follows princess to make sure she let's her brother know that she is "sad at him" for peeing on her fish. These fish obviously had to be thrown in the trash and she was none too pleased with this repercussion.
So I continue on my "theme" of cleaning and break out the Little Green Machine. Truly the best invention ever--gets more action around here than anything else. Best $80 I've ever spent. And I digress. So I take to this carpet cleaning caper (all the while the face mask is burning the shit out of my skin) but I can't think to stop because with my luck Boy Wonder will get down on all fours and suck the carpet dry. I wish I didn't have to go there with my thoughts but he has brought things to the table that I had never dreamed possible. Never would have even foreseen as an option. So now I am forced to dream big when it comes to him. There is no attempt too grandiose and no act too outlandish. I am shocked on the daily with the things he finds to be acceptable. That being said I needed to act fast.
Whilst I am on my cleaning-capade with the noise of the handheld wet vac creating a barrier I feel like I hear a scream. I'm not sure it's a scream but it sounds like one. I halt my mission, flick the switch and try to distinguish which child is in distress. It's usually the boy crying about some injustice that his sister has issued. This cry was LOUD, it was strong and it was worsening. Towel still in hand I turn the corner expecting blood...and I got it! Baby girl was walking toward me with a hand over her mouth and tears flowing freely. (this kid RARELY cries from pain so I knew this was no joke) Once she got close enough she took her hand from her face and all I could see was blood. She was in a sheer panic. It was all I could do to calm her down enough to tell me what happened and all the while I was just hoping and praying that all of her teeth were still intact. There was so much blood pooling in her mouth and around it that I couldn't tell at first. She finally screamed out that she was running from her brother and slipped and fell on her face in our bedroom (a cement floored bedroom). The lip swelled so much she suddenly started to look like Dumb Donald from Fat Albert. She was in hysterics and I was feeling like a jerk for going into neurosis over the pee-carpet. Not that my intervention or presence would have kept this unfortunate mishap from occurring but at least I could have seen what happened in order to determine if a visit to the doctor was in order or not. So all I could really do was wipe and wait. She calmed down after about 30 minutes of disorder and finally decided that it would eventually feel better because amidst a crisis she is a fan of the phrase "It will NEVER feel better! EVER!" And so this glimmer of hope was a good sign. Once I got all the blood washed away we determined that she would be losing no teeth and that they only hurt a little bit. After a Hello Kitty cold pack to the face she is now only looking as though Mike Tyson got ahold of her for 1 round instead of all 10! Luckily for me it's bad enough that I will be battling the "child abuse" leers from the folks at the store and other public locales for at least the next 5 days. Thank God. I wasn't sure I could get through this life without at least one situation where I was looked at as a psychotic mom who lost it on her kid and hauled off and punched her in the mouth. Let me release yet another sigh of relief...WHEW!
So needless to say I finally got to wash MY face and remove the mask...after sitting in it for an hour. I was hoping that all that extra time would just lead to extra pretty :) Not quite sure it works that way but that was what I was telling myself. It always seems at the crux of preparing for a night away from my kids they bust out with madness of this caliber making me feel either A.) guilty for leaving them or B.) guilty for asking another human being to submit themselves to this nonsense. The shenanigans on Friday left me feeling a tinge of both. I sit wondering if this is by design or if this is a cleverly thought out and plotted plan by the miniatures. I suppose I am giving them WAY more credit than they can rightfully take at this age. But when antics like this hit the fan it just seems this way. Maybe I am alone on this one? But even if I am the only parent in the free world who feels this way, at the very least I hope that all who read this take note from the entry that, when buying or renting a new place you ALWAYS have the carpets cleaned before moving day!
**One month post-accident, the gals tooth roots actually died and she is now left with a grey Chiclet until this one falls out :( At least the tears/pain were validated by something!**
Nice!!
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