Humble pie

I’ve had heaps and heaps of humble pie shoved down my throat this mid-day.  Can I just share with you what my lovelies have had me doing today?

Lunch time: Jude refuses to try his pulled pork sandwich.  He’s had these on a few occasions previously and has loved it.  After 15 minutes, he says he wants cheese & crackers instead.  I inform him that he has to try his sandwich before he can have cheese & crackers.  I finish loading the dishwasher and turn around to see him shoving the last morsel of sandwichy goodness in his mouth.  He’s trying to chew but his mouth is so full that he is mostly gagging with his eyes watering.  Determined to get it down.  I order him to chew, chew, chew and take a drink.  He somehow gets it all down and asks for cheese & crackers.  I oblige.

Jude then announces he has to go potty.  Ok, I say, go.  He runs in the bathroom.  After cleaning the lunch off Jett’s face, I go check on Jude.  He’s gone potty.  Good boy.  As I help him down, I look at what was left of an almost new toilet paper roll in the toilet.  I try flushing.  Of course it won’t go down.  I get a plastic grocery sack and fish out the tissue in the pee-water with my hands.

Nap time: I put the kids in their room.  Jett’s quick to lay down but Jude is defiant.  He yells, no!  That doesn’t fly with mom.  After a couple warnings, he gets a bare bottomed swat with the wooden spoon.  He gets in his bed.  I tuck them in.

From the kitchen, I hear a commotion in their room.  I run in to see what’s going on.  For the first time, the kids discover the trap door to the crawl space beneath our house in the floor of their closet.  This means they ripped the carpet up which wasn’t tacked down but snugly fitted under the trim and around the handle of the door.  They also lift the door, which Josh and I thought would be impossible for them to do because they would have had to stand on the door in order to reach the handle.  It isn’t fully opened – thank goodness – but it is askew, so now we know that it’s possible for them to lift it and we must plan our next defensive move.

While I sternly warn them about what will happen if they ever play with the door again, I smell a dirty diaper.  Jett.  I change him and get them to settle back in again.

I leave the room, but I don’t go far.  I open the door to see Jett – not Jude – ripping the carpet up again.  Spoon time!  For their safety, we cannot tolerate any playing with that door.

So, I tuck them in once again.  I leave the room, and linger just outside again.  Sounds like they’re settling in, so I go back to the kitchen.  After a few minutes, noise again.

I go back in their room.  They are both stark naked and poop is smeared around the room.  I ask Jude what happened.  He said Jett had a stinky diaper.  I look at the floor.  Jett did have a stinky diaper.  It was full again and had overflowed onto his pants, which Jude thought needed attention, so he helped Jett out of his pants and diaper.  Poopy crib, poopy socks, poopy floor, poopy sheets, poopy mattress, poopy books, poopy walls, poopy carpet, poopy hands, poopy stomach, poopy legs.

I get the wipes and clean Jett up a little before I stick them both in the tub.  I clean off Jett’s business and let them play while I begin taking the Resolve across the hall to their room.  I’m scrubbing and scrubbing, putting everything washable into the washing machine while explaining to Josh over the phone why I need some kind of medal for the day.  I run back to check on the kids.  They are squirting conditioner all over themselves and the bath water.  I drain the tub and start again.

I get the boys out of the bath.  Jude runs screaming and laughing around the house naked.  I’m not in the mood.  I order him back to his room and he ignores me.  Spoon time!  I get him into his room.  Jett… Jett… where’s Jett?  I find him in the family room hiding behind the couch with the Resolve bottle to his lips.  Luckily, it was almost empty (thanks to January’s Puke-fest ’08).  Jett dodges me behind the couch.  I’m still not in the mood.  I mention the spoon and he comes running to me with his hand extended, allowing me to lead him to my room.  Yes, it’s time they’re separated for naps.

Jude’s crying that he wants a sweatshirt from his room.  Jett looks like he’s close to falling asleep in my bed.  Ok.  I have this under control now.  I go back to the kitchen.  After a few minutes Jett comes running down the hall.  I make them trade places.  Jude gets Mom & Dad’s bed and Jett gets his crib.  Jude also gets the sweatshirt and sweatpants we was crying for and falls asleep peacefully in no time.  I check on Jett and he’s asleep, too.  FINALLY!

I earned these…