Wednesday, September 14, 2016

My Last Pair Of Contacts Transitioned Peacefully and Calmly Into The Toilet

I got up early this morning to get work done while the blessed babes were all snoring peacefully in their beds. I had a 75% success rate with the "all snoring peacefully in their beds". I found myself instead of working, snuggling my smallest babe on the couch pleading with her please PLEASE not to wake up all the others at 6am. And so I decided to reply back to different outlying things on social media on my phone while she drooled happily on my shoulder. While online, I ran across an article that suggested that a way to help children with transitions is to sing the transitions to them. "We will now clean up. We will now clean up." etc etc.

Brilliant! I need to do this more, I thought, admonishing myself. After all, wasn't I just lying awake at 3am worrying that I wasn't providing enough educational opportunities for my children, that they were all going to FAIL at life because I wasn't giving them enough- teaching them enough? Singing through the transitions! I LOVE IT! I can educate AND transition AND put a smile on their faces at the same time with peaceful and joyful song!

Armed with my newfound facebook knowledge, as I heard tiny humans begin to stir and stumble sleepy eyed into the hallway searching for breakfast, I was enthused about today.

"Good morning Good morning oh how are you
How are you
How are you"

I sang to them cheerfully and enthusiastically as their eyes sparkled with delight and they climbed up to the breakfast table.

"Let's eat breakfast oh I love you
I love you
I love you."

They smiled and blew me kisses and ate their cereal, and I thought- what fun! All my parenting troubles are solved! I feel like Julie Andrews! Next up- curtain clothes!

Addison took Eli's cereal bowl and he smacked her on the arm with his spoon so we transitioned to

"We do not steal other people's food
other people's food
other people's food

And we do not hit Addison on the arm
no we don't
absolutely not."

Cool as a freaking cucumber. Parenting level- NINJA!

I was busy patting myself on the back and happily singing to the baby (because it made her giggle and who can resist a baby giggle??? plus once you start singing IT'S SO HARD TO STOP SINGING) and I told Addison to go get ready for school, neglecting, in my parental high, to notice that she had a huge blowout you-know-what in her pull up...that she went off to change herself.

When I stepped into the living room, confident and cool, NOTHING COULD STOP ME NOW, I then noticed the large, smeared, smelly problem. Ok, deep breaths. We can handle this.

In a slightly shakier voice, with a still present but barely noticeable cheerful undertone:

"Who put that big poopy on the rug
poopy on the rug
poopy on the rug

We do NOT do poopy on the rug
No we don't
Definitely we don't"

Calm transitions. We can do this calmly.

Ok fine, I yelled a little bit. But just a little- to keep her from stepping back in it. It was while I was taking deep breaths and sanitizing and cleaning Addison up and cleaning up the room and singing to her rather desperately

"Did you sit anywhere else on the rug
please tell me
please tell me"

that I neglected to notice Eli William, who had scurried away quietly to do evil. Upon further inspection I realized that while I was cleaning up Addison, he had taken it upon himself to flush my last pair of contacts down the toilet and dump out an entire bottle of very expensive contact solution (I suppose he, in his ultimate 2-year-old wisdom, recognized that if I had no more contacts, I OBVIOUSLY didn't need any more super expensive contact solution. DUH.)

Deep breaths. We can do this. We can do this.

"Why did you climb up and touch my contacts
I told you not to
A million times

Increasing in intensity. No, Deanna. Stay calm. CALM WITH A SONG.

Where did you put my all contacts
Why are these holders
All eeeeempty"

Holding off hysterics. HOLDING.

The toilet? Really? 

"The toilet the toilet 
I can't look at you

Lucky for you I can barely see you anyway
Because I am blind
Mommy is BLIND

No Carter, I'm am absolutely NOT yelling. I'M SINGING!!!!! LOUDLY. WE ARE TRANSITIONING PEACEFULLY.

Go Go Go
To your room forever
Forever forever FOREEEEEEVER
tra la la la"

 After situating everyone out....trying to find the peace in my heart to apologize (blindly)....pushing everyone toward getting ready to take Addison to school....and fighting back the stroke that seemed imminent, I took stock of the situation.

Eli was sobbing in his room (no doubt, he because he felt SO BAD about what he did. Not to mention- he HATES being in time out), Morgan was sobbing in the living room (because she just got up way too early to PARTY), Addison was sobbing in the living room because we had to do an outfit switch because of the poop situation, and Carter was tearfully watching me continue to search for just ONE contact just in case it was still in the sink area and whispering traumatically "I didn't do anything. I didn't touch your contacts."

Which led to me feeling HORRIBLE and a big hug to calm his insecurities. "Of course you didn't. Mommy is so sorry that she yelled- er- sung loudly. I love you so much."

Julie Andrews, you win. I can't do this. I'm done.

This feels a bit to me like when I designed fun nursery Pinterest designs for their rooms and then my kids were born and promptly scaled walls and ripped down every last design (Carter even at one point took a picture out of a frame and smashed the frame around Eli when he was a baby. I lie not. I can't even hang pictures in my kids rooms right now.)

You know what, I'm guessing there was a scene JUST LIKE THIS ONE where Julie Andrews sang angrily just a little bit but they had to delete it because of time limitations. I'm almost positive.

It's 8am, Addison was late to school drop off, and my entire house has come unraveled- one loud gasping sob at a time.

Transition peacefully?

We will spend the rest of the morning NOT singing, hugging tightly, and focusing on survival. Sweet, quiet survival. Who am I kidding- Netflix, here we come.

Pray for me.

We will try again tomorrow. Perhaps in a different key????

A Blind Mother Who Is Now Out Of Disinfectant Spray

p.s. this post was NOT written for you to feel sorry for me. Rather- take this opportunity to LAUGH with me. Laughing makes it ALL BETTER. Thus, this overly dramatic post. May I suggest laughing in song?

p.s.s. If you are looking for a warm and fuzzy mothering post- please feel free come back another day. I'm fairly certain such a post might appear here again at sometime in the future. Pretty sure.

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