I'm working really hard at keeping my house spotless just in case someone wants to look at it. Our house went on the market Thursday. On Wednesday, a photographer was coming to get pictures for the web listing. Now, those of you that know me know, I keep my house pretty clean the majority of the time. I am anal to a fault. I drive my family crazy. One of the best things in life is the recent event of having a cleaning lady come once every 2 weeks to clean my bathrooms and mop my kitchen floor. (Thank you Christine for convincing me I'd love this!) So between my analness (spell checker wants me to change that word to one of these: eternalness, rationalness, realness, or ovalness) and and my cleaning lady, my house is pretty easy to pick up on a daily basis. I just had a few things to hang, move, tidy. Lilly is my nemesis with these kinds of projects. She used to help me. I could give her a job and she would run with it. BUT, she has recently become a t.v. junky. It is only VERY recently that she "found" television. Her favorite program changes daily. She likes to correct me when I say something like, "You love Dora, don't you?" "Mom...Dora is not my favorite." Her tone is something like 'you-pathetic-idiot.' "I love Wonder Pets and the Fresh Beat Band the most. I like Team Umi Zoomi almost the best." "Duh, Mom." (She doesn't say "Duh" yet...but I can tell, it's coming.) So on this fateful Wednesday, she was content to be plopped down in front of the boob tube and allow me my cleaning fun. Every time I passed the main floor television I would say "Thank you for being good while I work. You are being very helpful." Hoping that my positive reinforcement would keep her on the straight and narrow until I could focus my full attention on her. You see, our Lilly is destructive. If she can, she will find a way to make your mouth pop open with a gasp and a "WHAT did you do?!" She likes to undo any cleaning/straightening I get done just as fast as I do it. She is usually one step behind me, gleefully wrecking. Hence, the reason for the cleaning lady. So, on this day, I was just so pleased that maybe my little girl was starting to calm down a bit and recognize my need to get the house looking "just so" for our photographer guest. I was quickly getting my work done and Lilly was being so good. Until...
She walked up to my room and announced, "Mom! I pooped!" Not an uncommon announcement in our house. (She refuses to potty train any more if we show the slightest bit of interest in her doing it.)I turned to pick her up and escort her to the changing table AND...she was covered in...I don't know which word I should use here. Need I say more? Never before has she done this...or anything remotely like this. Of course, this would be the day she chooses to experiment. I was mortified. I was angry. You may say "Well, she is only 3. That's what they do." But, I'm telling you, she knows just what she is doing. She likes to push and see what will make you upset. Alan and I talk about how she seems to relish in doing what she guesses will get you the most riled up. OH THIS CHILD!
After much weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth, (mine. all mine.) I cleaned her up in the bath. Then went searching to see where else she may have done some fingerpainting. Nothin. Not a trace any where else in the house. Just all over her body and clothes.
I shook my head, calmed down, and finished my work. She was "good" the rest of the day.
I write this down to remember these things myself but also to have something I can share with her someday. When she is old enough to understand how difficult she was and have true sympathy for me. I picture her sitting across from me, reading the accounts of these "trials" and, taking my hand in hers, she looks into my eyes and says, "Mom, I am so sorry I put you through this. I hope you know how much I love you and I am sorry I was so hard." I'll get that day, won't I? My fear is that she'll just laugh and then head out the front door to her motorcycle riding boyfriend, where he is parked on my lawn...on top of the puppy he hit speeding onto my grass. Yeah, that sounds more plausible.
7 comments:
Looking from the outside in...... That is pretty funny. Sorry it happened. The best part of the story is the last sentence. Don't you just feel that way sometimes? I totally feel for you. Hope if sells fast and she can spread her poop and it won't be as big of a deal :)
I am still laughing though.....
I'm glad I'm not the only one with a "Lilly"...or a "Sam" or a "Phenix" or an "Ethan". Sooo glad it didn't get anywhere else!
It was fun seeing you yesterday. Really, you should have taken Sam with you. My neighbor was over a bit later and he wanted to stay with her too. My kids are going through a we hate mom phase. Seriously. They don't like me.
Oh Lil. You do have your hands full :). I had no idea you were putting your house on the market. Where are you wanting to move?
Even though I've already heard this story, it makes me laugh. A few days can put everything in perspective, you have a great sense of humor about it, but I know how frustrating these 3 year olds can be!!! :) Some days it's a wonder they make it through alive!
Love you.
Now take that sign out of your yard! thanks.
hahahahaha. oh man. as a difficult child myself (or so i was told. i can't imagine being anything but an angel) i'm very sure she'll hold your hand in the end. but the image of the motorcycle boyfriend is just too fun.
p.s. you're moving!? where to?
But she looks so sweet!
I just have to share a funny poop story of my own. Trying to potty train Ashlie - she would not poo in the toilet. All is quiet in the house. I search high and low, can't find her. I smell something horrible coming from the closet in her bedroom. There she is, bare-bummed with a pile on the carpet in the corner of her closet. And she did that more than a dozen times. Apparently, she enjoyed the quiet solitude of her closet. Yikes - someday they will appreciate their mothers, right????
Poop, poop, poop..... that's all I've got to say :)
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