Over The Edge

Oh Adrienne, you have officially gone and done it--you have pushed me over the edge. I was teetering there, with all your normal two year old antics, but today, it's as if you just walked over to me and gave me a little shove. I admit you are not the sole reason that I was standing there at the edge--it's been a hard couple of weeks for me with lots of little unexpected bumps/appointments to manage for us, and I am not feeling well, which never helps the situation. But, the truth is that I am really trying to figure you out these days. Your dad and I keep laughing at ourselves because as an infant you were so easy, and much more laid back than Jillian was. We thought this would just be the case forever. I try not to compare you girls, but it is hard not to discuss your similarities and differences because a) it's fun to do so as you came from the same genes and b) because we like to think we learn from our experiences in parenting (unfortunately nothing I learned from Jillian in terms of management of "spirited" behaviors seems to apply to you. You have your own "spirited" behaviors that are differently challenging than hers were/are).  I also know that this little episode today is one that many parents experience, so while it is not something unfathomable, it just doesn't align with your nature....or does it?!? Potty training you has been quite a ride. You ARE potty trained, remember? It's true that sometimes you have an accident (especially in the car on long rides), but for the most part, you have this down. I have found lately that if I just stop asking you to go and tell you "You are a big girl, just go potty whenever you need to" that you have fewer accidents. You do not use the potty seat or insert anymore, you just hop right up there on the big seat, do your deal, unravel all the toilet paper, wipe the wrong direction, and shove a ton of "paper towel" in the toilet, flush it, pull your pants up, get your own soap--the whole bit, except you can't reach the faucet to turn it on. This is pretty great stuff for someone who is less than 2 1/4 years old. So, let me pause here and say that I am REALLY proud of you. And then there is the issue of nap time. It does not exist. I have accepted this, but I am insisting on a one hour rest time where you are in your room with books and a quiet activity (usually Jillian's coveted Candy Legos that she so nicely shares with you at this time). We go through the usual nap routine, I put a pull-up on you (in case you fall asleep) and remind you to play quietly, stay out of your window, and that you do not have to fall asleep. You look at me with your big blue eyes and say in your little nasal-y voice, "Got it". This has been going really well, for the most part, for the last two weeks. You have kept your trouble to a minimum. Sometimes you fall asleep, which is great, but it's never in your bed (except when your dad is in charge of rest time, and then you sleep like an angel under the covers. What is that about!?!?). Once last week I discovered you asleep on your floor in the corner--pants/pull-up off and you were wearing a pee-soaked dress. Another time, you were pant-less and told me, "I peed on the floor, right dare". OK, I give up--are you pretending to be a dog and mark your territory?? I frequently remind you to tell me if you need to go potty (I can hear you through the monitor) and I always take you before we begin the "rest". Those are all minor little incidences that I can handle. But today? Today was not so minor. After the rest period was over (during which time I was frantically doing my domestic tasks, and also talking with the furnace maintenance guy who was here--all the while listening to the monitor and heard ZERO evidence of potty needs), I went up to get you and I opened the door. I was greeted with the usual "Good morning, Mom" and also a foul, foul smell. And then there was the artwork. Oh, the artwork. You had so kindly spared your pull-up of any poop (clearly removing it before you did your job), and then pooped all over the room in various spots. Much of it was rubbed into the carpet, some of it smeared on your Pottery Barn chair. It was on the wall, on the light switch, and some on Jillian's beloved Candy Legos. I could barely move as I surveyed the damage and shouted, "Adrienne Elizabeth! What did you do?!" "Ummm..., I pooped". Yes, yes you did. I asked you if you touched the poop, to which you replied, "Yes". I then asked you if you put any of it in your mouth. Thankfully, I heard "No". So I quickly scooped you up and carried you to the tub (scolding you all the while), stripped your bedding (which was remarkably only lightly soiled), quarantined Jillian's legos, and surveyed the damage. It was here that I paused to take this picture to send to your dad at work with the subject line of "I am going back to work". (if you can't stand to see poop, don't look at the picture)

Not pictured: Poop smeared chair and wall

I of course don't mean that, but really? It's not a part of my job that I enjoy. Your dad in all his sense of humor replied that he forgot to tell me he wouldn't be home until late. Lucky for him he ended the message with a smiley face, so I knew he was joking and therefore he will live.

So then I cried. Like, really cried. Thank goodness we live in a neighborhood with lots 'o space between houses because the neighbors may have heard my sobs. A sobbing mom who was having a difficult time finding all the poopy spots on the carpet because our carpet so ironically resembles the color of the mess (and remember I don't feel well and am talking antibiotics that make me feel even worse). If you can believe it, I almost wished that we had white carpet in this moment, because at least I would have been able to see it all. My cleaning was interrupted by the clock, it was time to get Jillian, so I wiped the streaks of mascara off my cheeks and away we went. You can bet your sister was not happy to hear about her beloved Candy Legos getting caught in the crossfire, and she understandably does not want you to play with them for a very long time. We headed to Target to get more carpet-cleaning supplies (and a Spot Bot automatic stain remover, now my new best friend and most wise investment ever) and you continued your orneriness there. Standing up in the cart (and shouting, "NO, I never sitting down!" when I asked you to please sit), pulling things off shelves, etc. It was a disaster. I asked the lady at Starbucks (of course I deserved a latte!) if she could please spike my latte, but it's a huge bummer that they don't serve alcohol at Target. Jillian wasn't a stellar shopper, either, but that's beside the point today. I spent the rest of the afternoon/evening stain removing, doing laundry, and attempting to disinfect your carpet. Your dad got the message and brought pizza home for dinner, and took care of all bath/bedtime duties for me so that I could finish cleaning in peace. For many reasons, this was one of my worst days as a mom (not just this incident, although it got the most of my attention today). I feel a bit beaten down and frustrated. I need a shower, and a lot of ice cream, and a long sleep. And clearly a professional consultation with a toddler poop expert. I sure do love you, Adrienne, and someday I will probably laugh about this "incident" or wish parenting was this "simple".  But probably not as soon as tomorrow.