I'm not talking about winter.
One of my dearest friends and probably the wisest mom I know, always tells me that my rough times of mothering are "a season."
Diapers - a season.
Tantrums - a season.
Potty training - a season.
This season with a certain four year-old boy may be the end of me. Just to name a few incidents...
He happily gets dressed and ready for preschool on Monday, but five minutes before we have to leave, suddenly he wants to change his shirt, he's too tired and nothing is right.
Squirt was caught picking up a small piece of POOP from the LIVING ROOM FLOOR yesterday. Yuck. Everyone was blaming it on his diaper, but I checked his diaper and he was just wet.
The logical questioning to the older children proceeded. Who pooped on the floor?
Denial from all three. I threatened to check butts if I needed to. Hunter is not known to lie, so I believed him right off. Sauce is not known for poop accidents, so he was quickly ruled out.
Rufus.... hmmm. Did you poop in your pants? No Mom. Are you telling me the truth? Yes Mom. Are you lying to me, because I am going to check your pants? No Mom. OK, drop your drawers.
I know that accidents happen, but lying is not acceptable in this house.
Side note: We just finished the season of lying with Sauce, I guess Rufus felt the need to pick it up where he left off.
Today I had to take my sister to the airport to return to Chicago after a weekend of "vegging out" with me. On the way home I took the bold initiative of swinging by Jiffy Lube, seeing that my van was 2000 miles overdue for an oil change (Dad, I hope you skipped this part).
The good thing about the Jiffy is that children can stay strapped in their carseats while the oil problem is resolved.
Unless one or two have to pee.
Then mom has to take all four into Jiffy's bathroom and consequentially into the waiting room for our van to be slicked up and ready.
That was fine. Slightly irritating, but I could definitely handle it.
However, I made a quick stop into a craft store to buy one specific item, and that same
Rufus child needed to pee AGAIN (10 minutes later) and I had to find the remote bathroom in the back of the store. I had to prop open the bathroom door so I could see three children on the outside of the bathroom while one child peed... I was ready to go home.
Nearing the checkout, that SAME child informs me (loudly), "Mom, I have to go poop!"
I thought of denying him, but considering the incident from yesterday, I decided he might be taking my words seriously.
Back to the remote and slightly gross bathroom all FIVE of us went. I propped the door open again, kept my eyes in two places at once and got Rufus and his needing-to-poop bottom on the toilet.
"I don't have to go poop."
Allrightythen. How would you feel about being strapped to the roof for the ride home?
Fast forward through a very loud, tiring boy-filled day. We were leaving swimming lessons where very often a couple of older boys will run a little ahead of me and the stroller to wait in the lobby before we go out the main doors.
Only tonight one ran right on out through the front door without his
oblivious brother anyone noticing. Only to have his mother rush out and find him outside standing by the dark parking lot.
Bedtime did not come soon enough.
On second thought, Daddy coming home from his business trip tomorrow can not come soon enough.
It's a season, right?