Urinal Etiquette

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I hate cleaning up pee and poop especially when it is not my own.  It seems like all day long I am changing diapers and underwear, wiping butts, wiping the splatter of pee off the toilet seats, flushing toilets, cleaning up dog crap in the yard so that my dogs don’t eat it, and laundering crapped on stuff.  It SUCKS…badly.  I know I sign up for this job, but no one could have prepared me for the continuous stream (pardon the pun) of crap and pee I have to wipe off, wipe up, disinfect and or/steam clean.  If I haven’t flushed the toilet 12 different times today alone when my sons have conveniently forgotten to do so after using the bathroom I would be surprised.  That is not even mentioning what I cleaned up at my job (the preschool).    I am so pooped out.  I would love for nothing more that to have no one need me to assist them or clean up after them when they use the restroom.  I would love to just have to only flush the toilet after I use it.  I would kill to not have to sit down on a peed all over toilet seat.    Just don’t see it happening anytime soon. 

I suppose in all the guidance I have provided my children with in regards to using the bathroom the one thing I haven’t done is clearly go over the rules of using a urinal.  And why should I?  I don’t pee in a urinal.  I don’t know urinal protocol.  Apparently my son was caught pants down sitting on the urinal trying to poop today at school.  I am slightly mortified, but certainly not surprised to hear that one of my children did something so bizarre.  Thank goodness they caught him before he actually did go.  All I can do is shake my head. 

I guess I need to brush up on urinal etiquette.  Lovely.  This will require lots of wine.  

From this side of disaster,
Cyndi

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From this side of disaster,
Cyndi

Say Hello to my Little Friend

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I am so freaking sick of my kids fighting all day, everyday.   There is absolutely no peace in my house.  Dinner is the worst.  Not only are they fighting with each other, they have terrible manners.  I am at my wits end.  Literally. 

I decided to try an experiment.  Meet Mr. Jayhawk.  

He is some small Batman figurine.  He begins dinner right in front of me.  Each time some one misbehaves, uses bathroom words, touches or fights with their siblings, complains, tattles, refuses to try everything on their plates or any other thing I deem irritating, annoying or just not up to my standards, the figurine moves in front of the perpatrator.   It will continue to move as people misbehave.  At the end of dinner whoever has the toy in front of them is responsible for clearing the table, doing the dishes, cleaning up the kitchen and taking the trash out. 

I started this game last night.  I spelled out the rules for the kids and everyone said that they understood.  Well, as luck would have it for me, Tyler (9) flicked a piece of food across the table at Abbi.  Mr. Jayhawk moved in front of Tyler.  The crying ensued.  “It’s not fair!”  “Everyone hates me!”  “I have the worst life ever!”  Needless to say, the toy stayed in front of Tyler the entire meal.  All the other kids were doing their best to have perfect manners. 

At the end of the meal he is still in tears.  He is refusing to budge screaming that he has no idea how to do the dishes and that everyone is stupid.  I picked up the newspaper and began reading.  I told him that I had nothing but time.  He could either do the chore without moaning about it and have it done in 10 minutes or scream and cry for 45 minutes and still have to do the chore at the end of hit tantrum. 

Finally he dried it up.  Hung his head, cleared the table, did the dishes, loaded the dishwasher, cleaned up the kitchen and took the trash out and replaced the trash bag.  I am doing the victory dance inside my head!  My guess is that tonight at dinner he will behave.  Finally one thing that worked!  10,472 things that haven’t worked in the past, but one that did yesterday!!!  I am just gonna go ahead and pat myself on the back.


From this side of disaster,
Cyndi

Furniture Shopping

Today I braved taking my three boys with me on a search to find a new coffee table.  We made our way to Furniture Store X.  Walking through the store browsing at the different styles of coffee and end tables, I suddenly became aware that I was having a full on complete two-way conversation with myself…out loud.   The only reason I know this is because a salesperson approached me and said’ “Sorry to interrupt, but is there anything I can help you with?”  

Ummm, um, um…I was just giving myself expert advice out loud, ya know? 

I also became aware that my three boys were half way across the store bouncing from couch to couch chasing one another and trying to climb inside furniture cabinets.  I am sure we were the poor salesman’s worst nightmare.   I can imagine when he retold the story of our “presence” at the store he said something along the lines of, “Today they let the inmates out of the asylum to furniture shop.”

From this side of disaster,
Cyndi