Niagara Falls
Yesterday the boys had swimming in the morning, and in the afternoon Ryan had a birthday party for a friend from school.
I knew he was tired before we even left the house, but held fast that we were NOT going to the party until all the laundry was put away. This resulted in 37 meltdowns, accusations that I didn't really want to go the party (possibly true), and eventually, all of the laundry was put away.
Little did I realize that was my last "win" of the day.
After the party (which involved bouncy houses, laser tag, ice cream, cupcakes, and pizza) we came home, and Hari had to head out (a wake for a friend) so I was solo with the boys. Not a disaster since they both quickly showered and I was making burgers and baked potatoes so everyone was happy with dinner.
But as we neared bedtime the wheels fell off the proverbial cart.
Ryan burst into tears, shouting that I didn't understand that he did NOT need to go to bed yet. (The irony of the tantrum was lost on him.) He refused to budge and eventually hid on the sofa under a blanket. And was, of course, asleep in moments.
Not bad, I foolishly thought. This is going to be OK.
I got Colin up into bed. Fed the dogs. Cleaned up the kitchen. Took the dogs out one last time. Then I got ready for Ryan.
I went upstairs and opened the toilet. I adjusted the lighting so the hall light was on (for visibility) but the bathroom light was off (so he wouldn't entirely wake up). I dug the kid out from under the blanket and carried his limp form upstairs. (Thank GOD I lift weights regularly... this kid is HEAVY). I got him into the bathroom, stood him up, and asked him to go potty.
This is where everything goes wrong.
Ryan first tried repeatedly to open the already-open toilet. Since he couldn't lift the seat that was already up, he just kept trying to tug at the toilet bowl.
When that didn't work he found the toilet seat... and closed it, then went to *ahem*... aim...
I realized what was about to happen, and with lightning-quick mom-reflexes I managed to get the toilet seat back up.
*NIAGARA FALLS*
Ryan started peeing into the center of the toilet. All was well - and boy was I glad that I made him go to the bathroom. Then... for NO REASON he decided to aim straight down. And proceeded to pee onto the rim of the toilet bowl. The ensuing backsplash got all over his pajama pants, his feet, MY pajamas, and of course the floor.
AAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I couldn't get him to stop or redirect, so I had to wait until he was done. DEAR GOD!
He then washed his hands, went to hike up his pants, and tried to walk out of the bathroom.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!
I barely stopped him, cleaned his feet, but the kid was so dopey and over-tired he still had no idea what was going on. He ignored my offer of clean pajama bottoms and went stomping into his bedroom and started climbing into his bunk. WEARING THE PEE-PEE-PAJAMAS!!!
Much to his indignation, I literally pulled them off him as he climbed up. By the time he reached the last rung the pajama bottoms were off. And Ryan was boiling mad. "GET AWAY FROM ME! GIVE ME MY PANTS BACK! NOT THOSE ONES! GET A-WAY!!!"
If you've never tried to get an angry hornet to try and put on pants he doesn't want to wear, then you have no idea what I was dealing with. So said goodnight and left him. In his bunk. Naked from the waist down, using a life-sized sea turtle to cover himself. And had the great fun of cleaning the bathroom, and myself, and changing into new dry pajamas.
The best part? When I told him about it this morning at breakfast he didn't remember any of it. He just laughed and laughed and laughed.
I sincerely hope Ryan has a child JUST LIKE HIMSELF someday.
#Karma
I knew he was tired before we even left the house, but held fast that we were NOT going to the party until all the laundry was put away. This resulted in 37 meltdowns, accusations that I didn't really want to go the party (possibly true), and eventually, all of the laundry was put away.
Little did I realize that was my last "win" of the day.
After the party (which involved bouncy houses, laser tag, ice cream, cupcakes, and pizza) we came home, and Hari had to head out (a wake for a friend) so I was solo with the boys. Not a disaster since they both quickly showered and I was making burgers and baked potatoes so everyone was happy with dinner.
But as we neared bedtime the wheels fell off the proverbial cart.
Ryan burst into tears, shouting that I didn't understand that he did NOT need to go to bed yet. (The irony of the tantrum was lost on him.) He refused to budge and eventually hid on the sofa under a blanket. And was, of course, asleep in moments.
Not bad, I foolishly thought. This is going to be OK.
I got Colin up into bed. Fed the dogs. Cleaned up the kitchen. Took the dogs out one last time. Then I got ready for Ryan.
I went upstairs and opened the toilet. I adjusted the lighting so the hall light was on (for visibility) but the bathroom light was off (so he wouldn't entirely wake up). I dug the kid out from under the blanket and carried his limp form upstairs. (Thank GOD I lift weights regularly... this kid is HEAVY). I got him into the bathroom, stood him up, and asked him to go potty.
This is where everything goes wrong.
Ryan first tried repeatedly to open the already-open toilet. Since he couldn't lift the seat that was already up, he just kept trying to tug at the toilet bowl.
When that didn't work he found the toilet seat... and closed it, then went to *ahem*... aim...
I realized what was about to happen, and with lightning-quick mom-reflexes I managed to get the toilet seat back up.
*NIAGARA FALLS*
Ryan started peeing into the center of the toilet. All was well - and boy was I glad that I made him go to the bathroom. Then... for NO REASON he decided to aim straight down. And proceeded to pee onto the rim of the toilet bowl. The ensuing backsplash got all over his pajama pants, his feet, MY pajamas, and of course the floor.
AAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I couldn't get him to stop or redirect, so I had to wait until he was done. DEAR GOD!
He then washed his hands, went to hike up his pants, and tried to walk out of the bathroom.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!
I barely stopped him, cleaned his feet, but the kid was so dopey and over-tired he still had no idea what was going on. He ignored my offer of clean pajama bottoms and went stomping into his bedroom and started climbing into his bunk. WEARING THE PEE-PEE-PAJAMAS!!!
Much to his indignation, I literally pulled them off him as he climbed up. By the time he reached the last rung the pajama bottoms were off. And Ryan was boiling mad. "GET AWAY FROM ME! GIVE ME MY PANTS BACK! NOT THOSE ONES! GET A-WAY!!!"
If you've never tried to get an angry hornet to try and put on pants he doesn't want to wear, then you have no idea what I was dealing with. So said goodnight and left him. In his bunk. Naked from the waist down, using a life-sized sea turtle to cover himself. And had the great fun of cleaning the bathroom, and myself, and changing into new dry pajamas.
The best part? When I told him about it this morning at breakfast he didn't remember any of it. He just laughed and laughed and laughed.
I sincerely hope Ryan has a child JUST LIKE HIMSELF someday.
#Karma
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