This Is Not The Toilet

I  nestled, no, crumpled, into the comfy corner of the couch at 10:15 PM. The kids were finally all asleep, and I had had enough of my daily house/mothering duties. Some of the dishes had been done, half of the toilets had been scrubbed, the dog barf on the steps (yes he did it again) was cleaned up, the living room was going on day 5 of being an unrecognizable fort made of furniture and sheets with clamps holding it all together, little boy artwork was laid neatly all over the basement couch by the little boy artists, and Bryan was still at work.

So, yes. There I was with a book on the one cushion of my couch not currently serving as an art gallery, for all of about 4 minutes, when I heard the distinct creaking of a bed, and the shuffling of sleepy feet on carpet. I hopped up and headed into the bathroom, expecting to find a boy at the toilet. But the toilet was empty.

I looked to my right, and see him there. Oscar is standing, hovering rather, over the wicker laundry basket. Taking. A. Pee. He is peeing all over basket, and all over the clothes inside (I guess on the bright side, they were dirty clothes).

Alarmed, I rush over to him hollering for him to stop! Stop! Stop! I shake his shoulders, and tap his back, and repeat continuously "that this is not the toilet!" I try frantically to wake him up enough so that I can re-direct him to the actual toilet.

Nothing works.

He is totally dazed, and continues to empty the full contents of his well hydrated bladder into the laundry basket. Once the flow stops enough, I move him over to the toilet and tell him he can finish there, to which he replies, "What? Finish what?"

I take a deep breath, let out a heavy sigh, and walk with him back to his bed. It is a good thing I did walk back with him too, because he tried climbing into one of his dresser drawers instead of his bed.

A fort in my living room, dog barf in the trash, dishes in the sink, and a bladder's worth of pee in my laundry hamper.

Yep, pretty much sounds like a day in my life.


*( I will mention that my Dad, Papa, came over and read the boys books tonight and helped with bedtime...so nice we live close enough to enjoy that. Thanks Dad, we love you.)