I’ve had it with the bathroom. In addition to the usual trials of potty training – and man, did I underestimate what a long and drawn-out nightmare that would be – it seems like strange and unfortunate things keep happening in there.
Actually, I take back what I said about the potty training. When those accidents happen, they’re invariably in the damn living room.
Scene 1 - Thursday Night: After helping me with baths, Oui Oui had left the building. Usually this is a safe if not somewhat fussy time, as I get both kids (and hopefully myself) fed and down to bed. Since being in school, Stella’s bedtimes are usually (usually) not as traumatic as they used to be.
In our efforts to potty train, we enlisted the help of that wretched and inane red muppet with the squeaky voice, Elmo. We found an app for iDevices in which Elmo’s doll learns to go the bathroom. Eeeew. Stella, of course, loves this crap. As soon as she finished eating, she stripped down nekkid, took the “big game” (= iPad) and hauls it into the bathroom where her new and improved kid/adult hybrid potty seat awaited. I heard her fire up the Elmo app and briefly checked on her as I started to nurse Felix, hoping to get him down quickly.
A few minutes later, I see my naked daughter run out of the bathroom, into the kids’ room, and run back to the bathroom with a little friend: one of those Pillow Pets (the small size), feline variety. Ok. Sometimes it gets lonely in there, I guess.
Not 2 minutes later I hear “It’s stuck. It’s STUCK. WON’T FIT. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Worst. Timing. Ever. Felix had just drifted off. But you know as well as I do: You can’t ignore shouting like that coming from the bathroom. I eased the boy up to my shoulder, hoping I could quietly defuse whatever the hell was going on and then get him to bed.
When I went in there, Stella was naked, jumping, and screaming, pointing to the commode. The iPad was on the floor, somehow avoiding being jumped on. Pillow Pet Kitty was jammed head first into the small potty seat’s opening. It was stuck. AAAAAAAAAAAAA!
I reached in to rescue kitty and the kid’s seat came off. That set off a new batch of yelling about “STUCK” and “BROKEN.” Kitty was wet. Kitty went into the laundry room to be deconned. The seat wasn’t broken, but didn’t want to go back on one-handed. That’s ok. Felix was good and awake again, anyway.
It was just stupid. It took me another hour and a half before I got Felix back to sleep.
Scene 2 – The Next Night: Usually bath times are no big deal around my house. Both kids like it, and Stella has gotten to where she likes to just play around, “swimming” for a while. I scrub her down first thing and let her play while I fix dinner or do whatever needs to be done before bed. I peek in at her, of course, but she’s pretty much past the point of my needing to worry about her drowning in there.
I don’t even remember what I was cooking at this point, but she had gotten very quiet. Worrisomely quiet. I could hear her doing something – quietly – but it wasn’t the usual sing-song, splashing, monologue type of sounds kids make. I moved pretty quick from the kitchen to the bathroom.
When I went in there, I noticed how brilliantly shiny the floor was. Until I realized it was merely the lights reflecting off the massive puddle of water that my daughter had bailed out onto the floor. Seriously, y’all: She had bailed at least 1/3 of the water out of the tub using the scoop-bucket thing we rinse her hair with. It was a 3 towel job, not counting all the water the bath mat had absorbed.
I then got a sippie cup of wine. The bathroom floor was not dry, nor was I.