I took a shower...

I was upstairs, in the shower. I had left Edward in his room, and he was reading books quietly. He seemed to be very content, and I figured I could grab a quick shower. Big mistake. When I got out of the shower, I heard a couple of weird noises downstairs. I quickly threw some clothes on and headed downstairs to see what was happening.

When I got to the dining room, I saw this - orange juice everywhere (I could have SWORN that I put it away) - all over the table, dripping onto the floor into a large puddle.  It's hard to tell in this picture, but the uphostered chair in front has a bit wet sticky spot on it, too.  Do you see the whisk broom in the corner?  I found juice in the dust pan (you can't see it in this pic), and the bristles of the broom were sticky wet.  Now I knew that those two things (the broom and dust pan) weren’t out when we had gone upstairs earlier – Edward had gotten those out, obviously in an effort to clean up his mess  (he really enjoys trying to sweep things up lately).  I kind of laughed at the situation, thinking “well, it could have been worse.  Just cleaning up a bit of juice is not too bad, and how cute that he tried to clean it up”.  That’s when I saw the wet juice footprints leading to the kitchen...

I followed them into the kitchen, where the real disaster awaited. Edward had gotten out the plastic containers of powdered sugar AND brown sugar, and had scattered the entire contents of both all of the kitchen floor. There were piles of brown and powdered sugar everywhere, and it was starting to congeal and turn chunky where Edward’s juicy footprints had been.

The sugar tubs are kept in the same lazy susan cupboard with all the leftover containers, and he had taken all of the containers out and thrown them in the sink with the dirty dishes, and had sprinkled sugar all over the empty cupboard afterwards.

His jeans were soaked with juice, as were the bottom of his socks, which were now crusted with chunks of congealed powdered and brown sugar. He was standing in the corner, holding the powdered sugar container (the other sugar contained was on the floor on its side), dumping the last bits of it on the mess.  

I was no longer laughing.  This was NOT funny to me.  I had TWO rooms to clean up, and a sink-full of sticky containers, AND a cupboard, and the two sugar containers and other flotsam and jetsum on the floor, AND a two-year-old.  I was…not happy, to say the least.  I just kept yelling and yelling at him – I was so so angry and there was just soooo much mess.  He just stood there with this “why are you so angry?” look on his face, totally unaware that he had done anything wrong.  I set about cleaning up the mess, and made him sit on the stool while I did so.  I just kept saying “bad boy, Edward – you are naughty.  This was very, very naughty!!”  He said nothing, just kept nodding his head in agreement as if to say “yeah, I know”. 

I set about cleaning up the dining room, then moved into the kitchen, making him sit and wait the entire time (I certainly did not want him off making another mess while I cleaned up this one!).  After I cleaned up the chunks of sugar off the floor, I realized that I would need to wipe down the entire floor, because it was still sticky from the sugar and juice residue.  I took off Edward’s clothes, because they needed to be washed, too, and made him sit in the corner in his diaper while I wiped down the floor again, and again, and again.  It took 3 tries and one final rinse before the stickiness went away.  The entire cleanup of the two rooms, the cupboard, the dishes and Edward took 40 minutes, and I was no calmer when I finished then when I began.  Edward sat silently and watched me the entire time I cleaned up (I’m surprised that he sat still for that long, but he was probably afraid to move!). 

When I was done, he went to get up, and I was so mad, I shouted “NO! You sit back down! You are naughty, and you can just sit there!”  I knew I was being ridiculous – he had sat there long enough.  I was just mad.  He stood up and came over to me so cautiously, with his lower lip quivering and whimpered “mama…” as he went to hug me. I just about melted.  How in the world could I be mad after that?  Here was my little boy who barely talks, trying to apologize in the best way he knew how. I took him in my arms and hugged him and apologized for yelling so much, and we just sat there, hugging each other for awhile - him feeling sorry for making me angry, and me, feeling sorry for getting so angry.  Ahhh, parenthood…

P.S.  I no longer shower when he is awake. ;)