Over the course of one hour earlier this afternoon, the following things happened:
-Liam had 3 time-outs for unacceptable behavior.
-Paige pooped an unbelievable amount. Twice.
-Liam brought his woobie out of his room for what I decided would be the last time. He has a wall-shelf near his ceiling above his dresser mirror which is where we put special books and Pete the Cat when he’s in time-out. I put the woobie there. A little while later he brought it to me again. From off the shelf. Which he reached by climbing on top of his dresser and standing on his tip-toes.
-While I was attempting to feed Paige, Liam declared that he needed to use the bathroom. This is par for the course these days (and no, I don’t believe it’s coincidence that every time I need to do something for Paige Liam says he needs to poop…). Liam has had several incidents over the past week of attempting to wipe his own hiney (what this actually entails has nothing to do with cleanliness and everything to do with pulling out as many Cottonelle wet wipes as he can before we catch him — it’s beyond frustrating so I attempted to fix the situation by putting the wipes up in the wall cabinet above the toilet (before the woobie-on-the-shelf incident)) and as a result we have been making sure he knows, unequivocally, that he is not to get up from the toilet when he’s finished pooping, but should call us to come help. After he’d been in there a while I called to see what he was doing and when he didn’t answer I left Paige at the table to go investigate. I found him off the toilet with the toilet brush in his hands slinging toilet water, pee, and poop all over the bathroom.
-I screamed until my throat hurt.
-After attempting to disinfect the bathroom I unceremoniously sprayed Liam off with the shower sprayer and dumped him in his bed without woobie or books and instructions to follow the sleep rules if he valued his life.
-Paige pooped an unbelievable amount. Again.
-I lost what was left of my mind.