BLOG POST RATING: G for GRRRROSSNESS
I've been putting off cleaning the bathroom for about two weeks. The silt started building up in the toilet, and I was seeing the pink mold starting to grow in the tub. Every morning, I'd get up, determined to get it cleaned, and every night I'd ready for bed, trying not to look at what I hadn't found energy to accomplish.
So Piper took things into her own hands this morning. I guess she'd had enough of the mess in there. Or perhaps she really did just intend to have a tea party.
She has been happily playing by herself in her room for longer periods of time over the last couple of weeks, so I've been allowing my guard down a little further, lending the two-year-old a bit more of my trust. Not checking on her every five minutes when she gets quiet.
I shouldn't have let myself get so comfortable.
After I refused her a water bottle she had requested to fill up her teacups this morning, she disappeared. I assumed she was simply playing, moving quietly between her movie in the living room and her toys in her bedroom, a normal routine for her. It wasn't until I glanced over at her living-room-trekking self that I realized she had a cup. And it was full of water.
It didn't take a genius to figure out where the water came from. The water that she panicked and dumped all over our new carpet when I came after her. Her hair was wet. Oh no. The wood floor in her bedroom was wet. The bathroom was a wreck. There was water everywhere.
And the toilet was nearly empty. In all its unbleached glory.
I don't know a WHOLE lot about sanitation and pregnant women, but I think my midwife would probably die if she knew what I was wading around in this morning. I want to be a laidback mom about messes. I can handle things like dirt and goo and powder and food. But I really do have to draw the line at toilet water.
I swiped the tub and dumped the errant toddler in while I soaked up the mess and mopped and bleached everything. Then we washed her but good and I banished her while I finished up by cleaning out the tub. Piper had had enough by that point, and I found her curled up in a blanket on her bed, staying quite out of my way. (I wish the cats had the same sense my daughter has.)
So, the bathroom got cleaned, I think my procrastination habit may be cured entirely, and Piper has learned that she may NOT have toilet tea parties. Ever. I think she values our relationship enough not to repeat. But then, she's two. I think the question may be whether she'll retain the memory of my displeasure the same way she retains the memory of what happens on the Other Side of the Doctor's Door.
So yes, I'm totally venting. And I'm totally seeking sympathy. And I'm totally hoping for stories from other moms to make me believe my morning might really fall into the "normal" category.
Quiet, happy, inspirational thoughts seem so far away when this stuff happens. It is on days like this it is good for ME to remember that I am dust. 'Cause I need a good cleaning I can't accomplish myself.
(image from sxc)