Trying to Laugh Now

Haha! Hoohoo! Hoho! Heehee!

I'm trying. I'm really, really trying! And yet, at the same time, I'm going to be fine. I am. Because I feel fine. Not perfect, but fine. And fine is better that despair-like.

Let me tell you the tale of the last four days or so, dear reader --then you may understand my fine-ness and ramblings. You like stories, right? Horror stories? No? Well, read this one anyway. It's not so bad, now that I've re-told it:

So...Brandon had school this last weekend. He flies out on Thursdays nights and we say good-bye to him Thursday mornings (because he works all day and then goes straight to the airport after work). Thursday went just peachy-keen: #3 had his preschool graduation that night, and it was #2's last day of Kindergarten. I would show you pictures, but I can't upload them to this computer. Remember the Laptop Incident? Yeah.
Anyway, Friday comes. I've got energy (which, at 31 week preggers is pretty good still!) and we decide to have chore day. I was planning on attending the Provo HS graduation that afternoon, so I wanted the place done before-hand.
The chores begin.
They go pretty well. #1 had her last day of school, so it was just the 3 youngest and yours truly; we finished upstairs (well, the kids did), and because they had already cleaned the playroom, they had my permission to watch some TV in the basement. I had some more things to clean in the kitchen.
And then, as fate would have it, #2 yells up the stairs: "Mo-om! #4 is putting his head in the toilet!"
What the?!
I rush down the stairs (in my bathrobe glory) and head to the bathroom. Now, dear reader, to give you and adequate description about what is going to unfold, I need to explain the room situation in the basement. We have one family room/play room that runs the entire length of our ranch-style house with only a large counter/shelf thing dividing it. Imagine a rectangle --now divide it in half lengthwise. One of those halves is the fam rm/play rm. Got it? The other long half goes like this: Guest room, jack-n-jill bathroom, computer room, storage room, stairs. (well, there's a utility closet in there somewhere). The guest room, bathroom, and computer room are all connected via two doors. Does that make sense? No? Oh, well.

So, I come down the stairs, and go through the family room and am greeted at the door of the computer room by a wet #4. And then I noticed something blue on him. Light blue. And it smells good. Like coconut.
Coconut!?
It's shampoo.
I then proceeded into said computer room and I literally collapsed on the floor in rage. Shampoo, conditioner, and peach-smelling hand soap is everywhere. Squirted on the floor. Squirted on the chair. Squirted on the COMPUTER MONITOR!
Now, before you freak out yourself, dear reader, you should know that the shampoo/conditioner we have in the shower of the guest bathroom is the Kirkland Signature brand and is in pump form. Therefore there was no dumping of shampoo on the carpet, if you will. It was squirts here and there --and for this? I am actually very grateful.

But then I walked into the bathroom and saw the unflushed toilet open (never been so grateful it was just urine, though!). So very, very gross. But there was sh/cond/soap all over that room, too. And then I continued and walked into the guest room --there was the sh/cond/soap combo all over the floor, the mattress, the sheets, the pillow, some toys, the bookshelf...and then I walked out the other door into the playroom and found the trail...on the rocking horse...on the train table...on the computer chair...on the computer!? (the kids have an old computer they can play games on in the playroom)...on the train...on the table...on the carpet...

And then the rage hit. The screaming, fit-filled, sobbing, words flying, crazy, crazy, crazy rage. I spanked #4 and raged against #2 and #3 for letting him do it (and yes, I found out shortly, they knew ALL ABOUT IT, and didn't bother to TELL ME). I made the kids stay downstairs and watch me clean it up (and run errands and throw things away and get towels, etc.) and I grounded them from all TV, Computers, Video Games, whatever for the rest of the day (I should have done it longer). It took me over an hour to clean up that mess, and then I bathed the disgusting #4 (yes. I waited to do him last. I am very aware of all the damage the pee could have done to his body. If pee, in fact, can damage a body...?).
Besides the rage that consumed me (and scared the livin' heck outta me that I might go into labor), three things resulted from this experience:
1. The basement now smells delightfully peachy-coconut-y.
2. #4 really was sorry --and how can you blame a 2-year old for such behavior? In fact, that's why the older two got the worse punishment. I was upstairs for less than 30 minutes, and they have always done well watching him. And he has never had the tendency to destroy so much before. But then again, read my last post. He's changed, dear reader!
3. The computer monitor in the computer room --THE ONLY COMPUTER I HAVE LEFT TO EVEN USE, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY!!!!!!! --now has some kind of short in it. This now causes the monitor to turn off and on at will --at strange times. Which means, sometimes, I have no working monitor. Other times, it just flicks on and off. Other times, it works just fine.

Seriously!? SERIOUSLY!?

However, life calmed down. Friday afternoon I enjoyed 2 hours without children at the PHS graduation. It was lovely; it was calm. Friday night, the kids were great. So great, in fact, I pulled the Big No's of All Parenting and let them watch one show with me (I couldn't help it! I love Phineas and Ferb!).

Saturday was a different story: I got sick. So sick, that by Saturday night, #1 made dinner and the rest of the kids cleaned everything up afterwards. As I lay on the couch in pain and agony. See? I really do have good kids --when shampoo is not involved.
Sigh.

Sunday was worse --well, sickness-wise. We had to pick Brandon up from the airport, and when I woke up even more sick (we're talking intestinal sick, if you must know. My head and throat was fine --it was the other virus. But see, I don't throw up --but it has to come out somehow, eh? And I was terrified the whole time that it would induce labor. See? Rage and Intestinal problems = scary stuff. Or maybe the rage from Friday caused it? Nah. Too far apart.), but we HAD to get him. And asking someone to pick up hubby from the airport on a Sunday morning?? Too hard. Either people have meetings, or it's too far to drive up there, or it's too far to bring him to us...totally not worth the aggravation (or guilt trips). So, I drove up to SLC with the kids and we picked him up. And I grimaced the whole way (but made it! I rock!).

However, I didn't go to Church. And it's a gooooooooood thing.

Brandon was awesome, though. He took the kids to church (with his own sore throat) and took care of them the rest of the day (and me!). He let me just lie there and watch movies (Groundhog Day, how I love you!) and put the kids to bed. In fact, it was so awesome, that by this morning, I felt great! I feel so much better today. Which is good, considering it's our first day of Summer Vacation. But we started our routine, and I think it's going to work well. The sad part?
Brandon's now sick. He had to stay home and he sounds like a barking seal.
It's a good thing one of us is well! Taking turns totally works.
The other sad part? Having to use my VT's computer again because I still don't have the software for the Neighborhood Newsletter (you know, my calling. That I did easily before the Laptop Incident).

The craziness, dear reader, continues to abound. And I'm trying to laugh. I really am. Because my life could be so, so, so much worse. I mean, back when #1 was four-years-old, she and her friend found Sharpies and wrote all over their bodies, their swimming suits, and my friend's brand new IKEA couch (this was before IKEA was in Utah).
SEE!?

Don't blame me if I go crazy for a while, okay?

Pull out the stories, dear reader --tell me about the the worst (or one of the worst) things you found your kid had done in your house (or in your friend's house). I wanna know I'm not alone!