J is for Just...and Just Great.

I find myself using the word "just" a lot lately. I'm just wondering; I just wanted to let you know; I was just; Did you just; How does Mischief keep losing just one sock...you get the picture. 

In the midst of all the justs it struck me that my boys are just growing up too fast. The world is just spinning and spinning and I'm on a treadmill set to high speed trying to keep up with it...and in the meantime I'm missing things. We're always so busy working or "doing something" or watching T.V.  And I find that the more I try to keep up and the more I try to please everyone, the more I wish I could just get off the ride.

With Mischief already being ten & a half months, this resonates particularly loudly. I don't remember everything Mayhem did and said or EXACTLY what he looked like at this age. I remember bits and pieces, and I remember more when Mischief does similar things (like losing only one sock), but I don't remember everything. And it kills me. It kills me that I KNOW when Mischief is 4 I won't remember every instant of ten and a half months. I won't remember EXACTLY what this precious voice sounds like at this age because I don't remember EXACTLY what Mayhem's sounded like.

That's just great...now I've made myself cry.

God I hate sentimental mode.

I guess it's time to break out the video camera and go on a video spree.

So now that I've made myself cry...it reminds me that, speaking of remembering, there are a few words that Mayhem says that will just (there...there's my "just") kill me when he stops saying.  He has just a slight lisp. You know, the adorable preschooler lisp that kids tend to grow out of as they get older. A few of my favorites are:
Lemonlade (lemonade)
Spikely (spiky)
Tuh-tumputer (computer)
Dowt (Scout, our dog)
Tooties (cookies)
As I remember...or he says...more, I'll post them.

In the meantime, I have a sock to find.

I is for Incidentally...and Ironically.

When you have kids, every single thing you own has a stain quotient. It's that point you get to where you say to yourself (or out loud if you're okay with people giving you funny looks), One, "Is it REALLY worth cleaning or can I just throw it away?" And two, if it IS worth cleaning, "Is it worth cleaning now or should I (can I) let it ride 'til the next spill and THEN attempt a cleaning?" This question also takes the form of: "Will the Health Department bust my door down if I wipe up that spit up/coffee/easy mac/cat puke but don't COMPLETELY chemically treat the stain right away?"

I say treat the stain instead of treat the spot because you know that shit is going to be there forever. Even if just as a HINT of a stain or a slightly crusty patch of carpet/fabric. You can do whatever you want to it and it will still be there. Your expensively scotchguarded couch is no match for...*gasp*...fabric cleaner!! It doesn't matter how well you clean the stain or rinse the cleaner out, you're still going to have a blatantly obvious water spot where it was. Forever.

So if something's going to stain anyway, is it really worth breaking out the carpet steam cleaner right away or can you wait until you have a big enough swath of destruction to really make it worth your while??

Here is an example of when it is good and proper to break out the carpet cleaner immediately, without passing go and without collecting $200: When there are bodily fluids involved (non-withstanding, small amounts of spit up, pee, or puke). My favorite break out the carpet cleaner moment? When Mayhem painted his floor with poo.

Have you noticed we have a lot of poo stories? I want to say, "It's just boys!!" but I think it's really just us. And I have accepted it for what it is...a load of crap. (Ba-dump-bump. I'll be here all week; be sure to tip your waitress.)

Anywho....

To make a long and atrociously disgusting poo story short, when Mayhem was just potty training (around 2, 2 1/2) he went into his room to "get something." When he didn't come back quickly I went to check on him. He had apparently pooped in his pull-up, taken the poopy pull-up off, and was standing in front of his dresser happily massaging the poo into the carpet with his toes. In a swath about the size of two pieces of legal paper laid side by side. Oh yes. It took me FIVE full reservoirs to clean that mess. And there's still a hint of darker coloration on that part of the carpet.

So back to the current story.

Last Friday was delivery day for Mayhem's bunk bed. My mom graciously drove an hour and 15 minutes to our house to watch the boys while I finished the last minute preparations (frantically dismantling the old bed, shoving unmovables against the wall out of the way, and dragging whatever we couldn't get rid of up to the attic). While she was here, she did what she always does...randomly cleans, God love her. So while I was locked in the guest room/storage room turned Mayhem's room, she was sitting in the living room folding clean clothes and then cleaning my entire couch. Every inch of it. By hand. With hot water and a rag. I told her she didn't have to do it because I have discovered that if I don't clean it, nothing else spills on it. Whenever I attempt to clean a spot, that spot inevitably becomes a magnet for a new, and often bigger and/or more permanent spill.

But she cleaned it anyway. The entire thing. By hand.

It.was.absolutely.beautiful.

It looked like we had just bought it and unwrapped the plastic.

And it lasted exactly 48 hours.

In the last two days, Mischief and Mayhem have spilled more things on the couch and the floor around the couch than they have in the preceeding 9.5 months since Mayhem has been born. Maybe longer. And not easy to clean things. No, that would be counter to the rule. Things that are INSTANT stainers: An entire large frozen coffee, a glass of sweet tea, and an exploding cup of chocolate milk to name a few.

And that, incidentally, is a perfect example of why I don't clean as often as I probably should.