If you have read this blog, you know that the bathroom is pretty much my nemesis. My arch-enemy. The Kryptonite to my Superman. The pin to my balloon. The rain to my parade. It is the place where privacy died. It is the place where epic messes are made. It is the place that holds me hostage while my children attempt to take over the world (or at least eat all the marshmallows while dancing to Kesha radio on Pandora).
This particular day, I was sudsing up when both children barged in, double trouble. My 3 year old whipped open the cloth shower curtain and sat down on the outside of the tub, peering in at me in all my glory through the clear plastic curtain. Like he was ready to have a fireside chat or something. Meanwhile, his brother announced loudly that he needed to GO POOP.
As I'm sure you can imagine, things went downhill from there.
A few minutes later, after banishing him from the tub-side peep show, the 3 year old was crying because he had climbed into the sink and couldn't get down. I'm still not sure exactly how he got up there. I swear he has some kind of spider monkey powers or something.
"I'm stuck! I can't get down! Help me! Help me!"
"I'm in the shower, I can't help you right now."
"But I can't get down! Help me! HELP MEEEE!!!!"
"You climbed up, just climb down the same way you climbed up."
"I CAN'T!!!! HELLLPPPP MEEEEE! I NEEDA GO POTTY!!!!"
About that time, big brother started using yards of toilet paper to wipe himself. I cautioned that he was using far too much but to no avail.
"Um, mom the toilet is clogged up!"
"HELP MEEEEE!!! I NEEDA GO POTTY!!!"
"Mom, MOM! The toilet is plugged up!"
"I. NEED. TO. GO. POTTY!!!!!!"
I should also mention that when I had gone to get a towel for said shower, the cupboard was empty save for that smallish raggedy "extra" towel shoved in the back. All I had at my disposal when Pottygate went down was a ratty ass half towel that only covered about 2/3 of my body. I got out of the shower and covered myself as best I could and grabbed the plunger. I left the three year old in the sink, figuring that at least he wouldn't be trying to "help" with the toilet situation if he was stuck in the sink. So there I was, desperately trying to hold the towel on by pinning it down with my arms while plunging a toilet with an audience at 5:30 in the morning.
Once the toilet was un-clogged I had to help with the butt wiping situation since homeboy uses miles of toilet paper and only gets anything on about 3 squares out of the whole mess. After the butt was clean, I turned to wash my hands but of course I couldn't since there was still a child in the sink. Throwing the towel around the back half of my body, I turned and washed my hands under the tub faucet. As I turned back to grab little man out of the sink, he declared, "I peed." Of course. Well at least he was in the sink. Silver lining and all that jazz.
Clogged toilets, peed in sinks, colored on walls, raided chocolate chips, pilfered hot cocoa, dumped cornstarch, spilled drinks and spilled cereal and spilled crackers and spilled milk, scrapes and bumps, books and trucks, tears and cheers, smiles and laughs, hugs and kisses. These are all the things that fill our daily lives and turn moments into memories. While some of them aren't my favorite things in the world, I'll gladly plunge a few toilets if it means I get to make memories with these little people for the rest of my life.