Too Much in One Day

Yesterday was a wild day.  It all started with the dentist appointments.  We left the house at 7:50 in order to get there in time for our 8:30 appointment time.  I cut it WAY too close, as in, we walked into the office at 8:30.  After the appointments wrapped up, I decided to swing by Cole's office and surprise him with a short visit.  As luck would have it, Cole was in a meeting.  Shucks!

But, we had more things to do.  We headed out to the mall to meet up with my mom who happened to be in town.  The boys got to play at the mall playground while we waited for mom, and then we ate some pretzels and did a little shopping.  After we wrapped up all of that business, we went with mom to the credit union to wrap up some business.


We then parted ways with mom, got some gas, tried to visit Cole (still no luck), and headed for the indoor playground.  We got to the playground at 1:08.  We met up with my friend and her daughters and played until 3:50!  We then headed back to Cole's office for a quick visit because Cole was working late last night and I wanted the boys to get to see him and vice versa.  After we left Cole's office, we got some milkshakes at Sonic and came on home.  We got home well after 5:00 last night.

Last night when bedtime rolled around, Ian tucked his and Eli's super heroes from the dentist's office into bed on the couch.  He gave me strict instructions not to touch them because they needed sleep.  I told him that I needed to move them, but I would make sure they had a nice bed to sleep in.

We received some sweet Christmas treats in this box, and I almost threw it away the other day.

 It's a good thing I kept it.  It is the perfect place for super heroes to recover from fighting plaque and tartar all day long.

It was a good day, but it was WAY too much for one day for the two chums.  They were exhausted last night, and the extreme fatigue is not biting us all in the heiny today.  YIKES!!!

So, today we aren't going to do anything.  I mean nothing!  We are skipping Mom's Group today.  We are just going to chill out, play with toys, and lounge around in our jammies.  (That jammie part isn't that unusual.....but it sounds better to pretend as though it is.)

5th Time's the Charm

There are two days of every year that I absolutely, positively DREAD.  I mean, I'd rather go through childbirth again with no epidural.  I hate these two days so much, that I begin dreading them six months in advance.  As the day gets closer, I begin dreading it even more.  And in the last month before The Day, I think about it non-stop.  It becomes all consuming.  Of course, I am talking about Ian's and Eli's 6 month dental check-ups.

We go to a pediatric dentist and the staff and Dr. Hemann are FANTASTIC!!!!  I can not stress this enough.  The staff is incredible and know how to deal with children.  I first took Ian to the dentist when he was 14 1/2 months old.  It was right before Christmas, and Eli slept through the entire appointment.  It was one of my first two-kid adventures.  And it was horrible.  Ian totally freaked the hell out.  It was unbelievable.  But we went back six months later, and this time we put Eli in the chair as well.  (Yes, Eli cut teeth at six months.)  This appointment was again hellacious as far as Ian was concerned, but Eli was fine.  Then we came back six months later, and that appointment was beyond disastrous.  BE. YOND.  DIS. AS. TER.  I had to hold the boys on my lap one at a time, and an assistant had to hold them down on top of me in order to get ANYTHING accomplished.  NOTE:  Ian has "sticky spit" and needs to be seen on a regular basis to keep his teeth from discoloring.  We took plenty of breaks, and the hygienist was so patient, gentle, and kind.  But it was still absolutely horrific.  There was out of control screaming, yelling, kicking, thrashing, bawling, dry heaving, etc.  Keep in mind, the boys only get their teeth cleaned.  They don't have any decay or problems of any kind.  The next time was just as bad only Eli clamped down on the hygienist's finger and wouldn't let go.  She could not get her finger out of his mouth.  It was absolutely wretched.

Today was Ian's 5th six month check-up and Eli's 3rd.  I had been obsessing over this appointment for weeks. I never even mentioned it to the boys; I kept it all inside.  Some parents dread immunization day.  Hey, I don't like it either, but I would rather sit through 1,000 immunizations before sitting through a cleaning.  A shot is quick and easy.  A cleaning?  It's an hour, MINIMUM, of restraining/consoling thrashing, screaming children who may or may not puke on you at any moment.

So, when we were called back for our appointments I told the hygienist, who was new to us, "I have to warn you, my kids hate this.  I don't mean, they don't really like this; I mean, they absolutely HATE doing this.  It's bad."

She replied, "Uh, yeah.  I saw that in their charts."

Yep.  My boys hate it so much that they have been "tagged" in their charts.  Honestly, it's probably why we had a new hygienist.  Our regular hygienist probably saw today's schedule and went home "sick."

We decided to let Eli go first.  I climbed into the chair and snuggled the little man on my lap.  We got all into position, and I braced myself.  Then something weird happened.  It was the easiest doctor's appointment, of any kind, that we have EVER had!  He never flinched, thrashed, shed a single tear, jerked, yelled, whined, or anything else.  He was absolutely perfect!!!!  I was so shocked at the end of the cleaning I couldn't even put into words how surprised I was.  We finished our appointment 10 minutes ahead of schedule because we never needed a single break to douse Eli with holy water.  I was blown away.

Ian was up next.  When Ian came over to the chair, he just hopped right up into it.  I asked if he could get up so I could sit down first, and he told me that he wanted to sit by himself.  Uh, pardon me Ian?  Speak into my good ear?  No, he really wanted to sit by himself.  So the hygienist got him a booster seat, and the rest was history.  He never flinched, thrashed, shed a single tear, jerked, yelled, whined, or anything else.  He was absolutely perfect!!!!  I was so astounded by the end of HIS appointment that I talked to the hygienist about it for a very long time while waiting for the dentist to come check things out.  We finished Ian's appointment early as well, and we were out of the office 20 minutes ahead of schedule!!!  HOLY COW!!! I have been walking on air ever since.

Since the boys were such champs, we came home with lots of goodies!  Brushing charts, tooth brushes, floss, Flosser Man, stickers, and super heroes.....  You can make personalized brushing charts for your kids, too!

 The Loot

This little dandy is "Flosser Man."  Kind of looks like a person, right?  Well, Ian's teeth are starting to get closer together in the back, so Cole and I have the distinct privilege of flossing his teeth every night.  You have to wind new floss everyday, and the winding/wrapping/threading routine is slightly ridiculous, but if it keeps me from getting bitten, then Flosser Man to the rescue!  He really didn't mind it today, so I think we'll be fine.

So, all in all, we had a FABULOUS day at the dentist.  No decay or any other problems of any kind.  We go back in July, and I'm hoping that the appointment will go just as well as today.  But talk to me in June and we'll see if I'm still as optimistic.

Big Lubble

Last night was my turn to rock with Ian at bedtime.  As we snuggled in the rocking chair under a blanket of stars, Ian pointed in Orion's general direction and said, "Where's big lubble."

I was sure I didn't hear Ian correctly, so I asked him, "Where's what?"

He again said, "Big lubble."

I still had no clue what he meant so I started pointing out the major stars in Orion: Betelgeuse and Rigel.  I thought Betelgeuse has some of the same sounds as 'big lubble.'  This kind of pleased him and he told me that Cole had shown him these stars, but he was still trying to get me to understand "big lubble."

When Cole was done rocking with Eli, he came in to give Ian one final goodnight kiss.  I asked Cole if he knew what Ian was talking about, and a light bulb went on in Cole's head.  He got that wide-eyed "Ah-ha" look he gets when a thought suddenly hits him and said, "He's talking about the Hubble Telescope.  Is that what you're talking about, buddy?"

Ian was thrilled.  Yes, this was what he was talking about.  We all talked about outer space for a couple of minutes, and then Ian went to bed.

While I was getting ready for bed last night, I noticed an empty toilet paper roll in the trash.  (Don't worry; that was the ONLY thing in there)  I pulled it out, and took it to our bedroom.  I told Cole, "I'm going to turn this into the Hubble Telescope for Ian's room."

This morning I got started on furthering Ian's space interest by crafting the Hubble Telescope.  I used the toilet paper roll, aluminum foil, a shish kabob skewer, black adhesive foam, shiny silver scrapbook paper, black scrapbook paper, and scotch tape: all things I already had in the house.  The foam and scrapbook papers were left over from making the invitations for Ian's birthday party.  See, there really is benefit in spending four hours crafting invitations instead of just buying them!

Here is the end result with a picture of Hubble in the book Planet's!: Discover our solar system! by TIME for Kids.  It really is a great book in case you also have a little space nut.

Not the fanciest thing in the world, but I'm still proud of it.

After Hubble was all put together, it was time to launch him into orbit so he could send back valuable pictures of the stars on the ceiling.

Right in the center of Ian's ceiling

And so Hubble shall remain on the ceiling until we need to repair a lens or Ian or Eli rips it down.  I tried to tie the thread so this wouldn't be an issue, but with those two, who knows how long it will last.

CAUTION: Imaginations Running Wild

My favorite toy for the boys is building blocks.  I l-o-v-e, LOVE building blocks!  In my opinion they are the perfect toy because you can create anything you want.  Want a garage for your cars?  Build it!  Want to see what Santa's workshop looks like?  Build it!  Want a dragon with a hinged jaw and flapable wings?  Have dad build it!  (Seriously....Cole built one)

So this afternoon we were playing with our Trio building blocks, and I decided to build something with lots of open space.  This is what I came up with... 

Cole came in and started quizzing Ian, who was busy building a telescope, about what it was.

Cole: Did you build this?
Ian: No, mommy did.
Cole: What is it?
Ian: A museum.  (pauses)  A scallywag museum.

Yes, a Scallywag Museum.  I couldn't believe the answer.  It was SO off-the-wall ridiculous, but that's just the mind of a three-year-old.

Ian's New Interest

Ian has always had a great appreciation for the moon.  In fact, he refers to the moon as "Mr. Moon."  Here lately his fascination with the moon has spread to curiosity about the stars and planets.  Cole and I have pointed out the constellation Orion to him, and while I'm confident that he has no clue exactly what stars we are talking about, his obsession with Orion rivals his obsession with the moon.  He knows that a constellation is "a collection of stars" (his words not mine) and is truly fascinated by them.  This new interest absolutely THRILLS me!!!!  I wanted to be an astronaut when I was younger.  I have always loved science, and to be quite honest, I have no clue how to foster a child's artistic abilities so let's pray Eli isn't into Monet.

To encourage Ian's desire to know more, I did what any mother would do and hauled him to the library to check out books about the planets, constellations, and the solar system because I had NO answers to his questions.  It was very odd to come home with an armful of non-fiction books, but I want to do whatever I can to help Ian learn more about a topic he has chosen all by himself.  (I still checked out plenty of fiction for Eli)  We read the books at bed time, and even though they were a bit advanced for Ian's age, he was completely transfixed.  He was totally engaged and asked questions about all of the pictures in the books and wanted more detail than the text provided.  I was positively glowing with pride.  We are so going to raise a little scientist!!!

The day after our trip to the library, we went to the local Children's Museum as a nice little family outing.  While we were there, Cole picked up a canister of 135 glow-in-the-dark stars for the boys' ceilings.  This was also pretty awesome because I had stars like these when I was a kid.  I mean, who didn't?  That evening we flipped through one of the books about constellations and Ian picked his favorite ones and I arranged his glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling.  Orion is positioned directly over his bed.  We also chose Aquila: The Eagle, Bootes: The Bear Driver or Herdsman, Lacerta: The Lizard, Sagittarius, and Ursa Minor.  I totally screwed up Sagittarius by making him face the wrong direction, but I doubt that anyone is going to come check the accuracy of my arrangements with any star charts so whatever.

Orion

After I had all of the stars in place the boys climbed up on Ian's bed together and laid down.  When I flicked the lights off it took a couple of seconds for the stars to come into focus, but once they did the boys started giggling and oohing and aahing.  They were in heaven.  Well, laying under a heaven of stars created by a factory in China.

Aquila: The Eagle (the stars in it's "head" are too spread out)

It's hard for me to believe that Ian is already old enough to be developing his own interests.  It's so incredible.  While we were reading his space books AGAIN today, he stopped me and said, "I am going to ride a rocket ship to outer space.  I am going to go around the moon.  And I am going to go to Mars."

Lacerta: The Lizard

In reply I said, "If you work really hard, you will get to do all of those things."  And I didn't just say that because I'm his mother; I said it because I truly believe it.  If you want something badly enough, you will find a way to make it happen.  I hope to instill in Ian a work ethic and drive that let's him accomplish all of his wildest dreams.

Sagittarius (Facing the wrong direction)

Ian made himself a telescope.  How clever!!!

The Big 0-2

I don't know how it is here already, but it is.  Eli turns TWO today!!!!  I love that he is at such a fun age, but I hate that he somehow managed to turn two in about half the time I expected it to take.

12.09.11 - Little bit of snow, lotta bit of gloomy

The day Eli was born was very gloomy, much like today, but holy cow was it cold!!!!  And, considering he was born at Carle Hospital in Urbana, I'm pretty sure the wind was ridiculous too.  I was induced at 11:00 in the morning, and he was born at 6:50 that night.  The whole day crept by, but as soon as the doctor broke my water, it was game on!  In fact, once I felt the urge to push, he was born so fast that my mom and mother-in-law didn't have time to leave the room before he was born.  Yeah, it was that intense.....from 7 cm to holding him in less than 35 minutes.  Plus, my epidural failed.  This REALLY ticked me off because I NEVER wanted to experience natural childbirth.  However, I did it, and I have the joy of nerve damage to remind me of the failed epidural.  Ah, memories.

Eli was a very, um, how shall I put this, fiendish moody little baby until about 4 1/2 months.  He generally cried the entire time he was awake.  Some of you are probably thinking, "Babies sleep all the time."  Well, I assure you it doesn't feel like all the time when all of their waking hours are filled with ear piercing shrieks and wails.  He could eat like no other child in the world.  While it routinely took newborn Ian 30-40 minutes to complete a feeding, newborn Eli could do it in 5 minutes.  FIVE minutes!!!!  Our pediatrician was shocked, to say the very least, when she witnessed such a feeding.  Generally speaking, newborns aren't quite as ferocious about eating as Eli was.

Eli is still a BIG eater at breakfast.  Lunch and supper are kind of touch and go.  He is SO happy.  Once Eli is  ready for the day, there is no stopping him.  He is the happiest, craziest, most dare-devilish little guy I could imagine.  Eli doesn't have a single molecule of fear in his body.  He will try anything!!!!!  Usually, I'm pretty impressed by his stunt skills, but every now and then something goes awry.  Like a few weeks ago when he climbed on top of the blanket draped over two club chairs and did a belly flop from three feet in the air or a couple of weeks ago when he fell off of his camel, a.k.a. the back of the chair, and crashed to the ground.

Eli has a million faces and wiggles.  He can not hide his emotions at all.  If he is ecstatic, you know it.  He just can't contain himself.  If he's ticked, you know it.  He's a lot like his mother.  He is still a HUGE mama's boy.  Cole and I used to joke that Eli's natural habitat was on my hip.  While his hip time has greatly diminished, he still makes no attempt to hide the fact that he frequently needs time with me to recharge his little batteries.

Eli is such an awesome little dude, and I am SO glad that he is ours!  :)

Last night, Eli's Godfather, Grant, and Grant's wife Lindsey came over for supper to celebrate Li-li's birthday.  They of course came bearing gifts.  A book for each boy for Christmas and a wooden garbage truck for the birthday boy!  Grant and Lindsey are such a wonderful addition to Eli's, and our, extended family, and we are SO glad they accepted our request for Grant to be Eli's Godfather.  I meant to get a picture of Eli with Grant and Lindsey and his truck, but I totally forgot.  Shucks!

Isn't this the cutest truck?  The bucket lifts up and drops the "trash" into the truck.

Eli LOVES it!!!!

Cole and I gave Eli his birthday gifts from us this morning.  He was positively beaming while we all sang to him this morning.  He got a light up Finn McMissile and four Cars 2 matchbox style cars: Finn McMissile, Holly Shiftwell, Acer, and Petrov Trunkov.  Acer and Petrov are villains, so play time is quite intense.

Eli's birthday loot from Cole, Ian, me, and a couple of $10 off a $10 purchase coupons from JC Penney

The big Finn McMissile is a flashlight

The boys had SOOOOOO much fun playing with the new toys that they forgot to ask for breakfast!  This NEVER happens, so I knew they were in toy heaven.

Later today, we will be visiting Dr. Maranon for Li's two-year well-baby check-up.  I'm pretty sure his vocabulary and conversational skills will knock her socks off as every person who listens to Eli speak is in utter shock when we tell them Eli's age.  It's pretty incredible.  And, I'm guessing that he will be in a fairly high height percentile because I feel like his 2T jammies are short on him already!

Tonight we are ordering a pizza for supper, and I'm making lemon cake with vanilla icing for dessert.  It is going to be a great day at the Anderson house.  We have a lot to celebrate when Eli's birthday rolls around because he wasn't the easiest baby to carry and bring into the world.  My pregnancy with Eli, from five weeks until the very end, made Cole and me realize how truly lucky we were with Ian, and made us appreciate both of our boys even more than we did before, which was a LOT!!!!!

Happy Birthday, Eli!

You Have to Be Kidding Me!

Four years ago a young couple found out they were expecting their first child.  The young couple prepared for the baby, and dreamed of all of the wonderful moments to come in life.  They decided to name the baby "Ian Anderson" in honor of the leader of Jethro Tull but knew their baby would be much more talented than his namesake.  As the young mother pushed in the delivery room, and her husband held the bed pan under her chin to catch the puke as she birthed the child, she knew that every discomfort and ounce of pain were well worth it.  As soon as the parents saw the baby, they were madly in love and finally understood what life was all about.  The baby was the most cherished child in the entire world, and everything he did was remarkable and awe inspiring and fabulous................and then the child turned three.

I am probably one of the most patient individuals on the planet, but today I was pushed to the breaking point.  I almost, ALMOST, found it amusing in a way, because over the weekend I attended a "Living the Faith" women's conference.  The speaker, Lysa TerKuerst, spoke of how easy it is to praise God and to ask for His help.  But in reality, we should be asking God to challenge us so we can prove to Him that even when things get tough, we will still live our lives according to His laws.  By the way, if you EVER get the chance to hear Lysa speak: do it, do it, do it!!!!  She is an amazing woman whether you are the most devout Christian or the most steadfast Atheist.  She is so captivating and inspiring.

So, what actually happened today to push me to the brink?  Well, it all started when Eli requested Ian at nap time.  A couple of weeks ago we moved the boys into the same bedroom.  Now, whenever it is time to go to sleep, they like to talk to each other.  I've stood outside the door several evenings just listening to all of the things they feel are important enough to discuss.  It always makes my heart swell to hear them having their little conversations and giggling at each other.  So, when Eli told me, "Need talk a Ian," after we were finished reading/rocking, I fulfilled his wishes.  I got Ian ready for nap time and snuggled them both into their beds around 1:00 pm.

I went to the living to enjoy a little TV.  We are still on a strict "No TV" policy for the boys, so I turned the volume really low and engrossed myself in a rerun of Intervention.  After about 30 minutes, I heard a very disturbing noise coming from the bedroom.  I marched myself back to the bedroom, thoroughly annoyed by the lack of naps taking place, and opened the door.  Eli was chilling in his crib, and Ian was standing in the middle of the room.  His face instantly took on that "deer in the headlights look," and I knew that whatever I was on the brink of discovering was bad.....really, really bad.  Immediately, my nose was filled with a familiar, yet unplaceable, scent.

"What is that smell?" I asked as I took in the state of the room.  The toiletries basket had been pulled off of the dresser and the contents were strewn across the freshly vacuumed area rug.  Other than that, everything seemed to be okay.

Ian just continued to look at me with that blank stare that ALL males have perfected.

"WHAT is that smell?" I demanded.  Then my eyes focused on the source of the aroma, and I instantly knew that I had two options.  1) Send Ian to my room while I attempted to cool down or 2) Call the police and turn myself in for God knows what.  I, thankfully, settled for option one.  I escorted Ian to my room, pulled the door closed behind him, and sought out my phone.  I had to talk to Cole, like right now, or I was going to wind up completely losing it and going to jail.  Luckily, Cole answered at 1:34 pm.

Cole: What's up?

Me: You have to talk me down.

Cole: What happened?

Me: Ian sprayed baby oil ALL over EVERY surface of his room.  It's in PUDDLES on the floor, the book bench, the rug.  It's ALL over his bedding.  It's ALL over his curtains.  I don't know what to do.

Cole: (Something not very nice)

Me: Don't tempt me.  You are supposed to be talking me down.  (contemplative silence)  He's so lucky you're not here.

Cole: Yep.  He is.

(More talking, more talking, more talking)

Me: Thanks for talking me down.

Cole: Yep.  See ya tonight.

Now, it was time for damage control.  I'm no foolio.  I worked as a T.A. to the head of the Textiles department while I was in college.  I am WELL aware of what oil does to fabric, and at this point I was steaming mad.  I mean, absolutely, positively furious.  Ian had just ruined every single textile in his bedroom!!!!  Including his black-out curtains, which aren't cheap.

Now, I knew what my mom was going to say: "Oil is going to ruin it," but you know how you view your mother.  In the eyes of her children, a mom can overcome any obstacle, for instance, the very basic laws of chemistry.  So, when mom answered the phone with her very familiar and comforting, "Hey, Dani.  What's up?" I knew she wouldn't disappoint me.  I quickly gave her the skinny on the gigantic mess lurking ominously behind the boys' bedroom door.  Her response?  "Oh.  My.  God."  We commiserated briefly, and then mom emerged from her secret hideout, cape fluttering and S-insignia blazing.  Super-mom had managed to scrounge up some secret recipe for battling villains, I mean oil.

The devil-oil, I mean baby-oil.  Not a single drop left of a brand new bottle.

As she read and read and read and read...............I began to think, "Is it really worth all the trouble?" but being the cheapskate I am, I quickly snapped out of my temporary insanity and manned up.  I sent a text to my neighbor, Katie, asking if she had any corn starch.  Corn starch will supposedly pull the excess oil out of the fabric.  It is the first line of defense for a baby oil attack.  I sat my phone on the counter and went to assess the damage.  At this point Ian was still in solitary in my room, and Eli was still chilling in his crib.  I carefully walked into the room because the copious amounts of baby oil on the hard wood floor had turned the hallway into something straight out of MXC.  I flipped on the light to see what I was up against and to remove Eli from the crib.  When I looked down at Eli, smiling sweetly, memories from 18 years ago flooded my mind, and I was frozen in place while I replayed the entire sequence of events in my head.

When I was in middle school, my parents put in a pool.  I was a total water bug the first summer the pool was in.  I spent more time in that pool than I did on dry land.  My mother was also a total water bug, but not for the swimming, for the tanning.  My mother is a sun worshiper.  For the tan, yes, but mainly because she is ALWAYS freezing, and tanning is about the only way she can ever get warm.  Mom's tanning habits really began to irritate dad as the summer progressed.  He was always hounding her about using tanning oils in the pool.  The tanning oils will deteriorate the pool liner and greatly shorten its life span.  They went back and forth about the tanning oils because mom wanted to use them, and dad kept telling her: absolutely not.

During the course of this, ahem, disagreement, my hair began going down hill.  It seemed like no matter what I did, I could NOT get my hair clean.  I would wash it two or three times every day, and still the oil build up kept getting worse and worse and worse.  Finally, my dad had had enough.  We were all in the kitchen, and dad finally had to get his frustrations out.

"Stop using tanning oil in the pool!" he yelled at my mom.

"I did!" she retorted, equally frustrated.

"I don't believe you.  The pool is ruining the girls' hair.  Look at Danielle's hair.  It's disgusting!" he bellowed.

"Well, I don't know why," she fired back.  "I quit using the oil a long time ago."

By this time I was bawling.  I was witnessing a disagreement between my parents, something they always dealt with privately, and my dad had just said what everyone else was thinking: I looked disgusting.  Now it was my turn to defend myself, and try to salvage a shred of my eleven-year-old dignity.

"I have been washing my hair with that Papaya Plus like three times everyday!  I'm using a ton of it.  I don't know why my hair is like this!" I shouted through my tears.

"What are you using?" mom asked.

"The 2-in-1 Papaya Plus," I sniffled.

"That's not 2-in-1.  It's only conditioner.  No wonder your hair is a mess," mom said.

And that was that.  The mystery of my disgusting hair was solved.  For over a week, I had just been conditioning two or three times a day and never washing.  Plus, mom and dad's ongoing argument was finally put to rest.

Back to the present.  Looking down at Eli, and his frighteningly greasy head, I realized that not only had Ian doused every single surface of his bedroom, Eli's head had also been the target of his baby oil rampage.  His hair was like an oil slick!  I was so ticked off because I had planned on skipping baths tonight, out of respect for my poor dry, cracked hands.  That was no longer a possibility, but I couldn't even think about it at the time.  I lifted Eli out of his crib and sent him to play in the other room while I began to clean.

No, that isn't stylishly piecy.  It's covered in baby oil!

As I looked around, I realized the full extent of the damage.  The rug was soaked.  The book bench was absolutely covered in and dripping oil.  The curtains had spots the size of dinner plates and so did Ian's bedding.  I didn't even know where to start.  I decided cleaning up the actual puddles, yes puddles, of oil from the floor would be the best first step.  It took two baby bath towels to sop up the mess, but the floors were still dangerously slick.  Then I began gathering all of the textiles that needed to be cleaned, i.e. everything but one curtain panel.

I went to check my phone to see if Katie had responded to my text.  She hadn't.  I decided to call my neighbor, June.  June only had a couple of tablespoons of corn starch, but offered to go to the store and buy some for me.  Are you kidding me?!?!?!  How awesome is she?!?!?  I gladly accepted such a generous offer because I was in the middle of an oil crisis comparable to BP's mess in the gulf in 2010.  I didn't have time to play the whole, "Oh, I couldn't let you do that" game.  I NEEDED SUPPLIES!!!!  I am so, so, so grateful to June.  If you see June out and about, give her a hug and tell her I let you know what an awesome person she is.  Here's a picture of her so you know what she looks like.........

June

While I waited for my delivery of corn starch, I scrubbed the floor with Dawn for the first of six times.  Yes, SIX times.  The oil was so thick on the floor that one, two, three, four, five moppings were simply not enough.  I will say that I have never oiled our hardwood floors, so I guess that in some strange way, Ian did me a favor.  While waiting for the floor to dry, I lugged all of the oil-laden linens to the dining room.

I spread all of the fabrics out on the dining room table so I could cover the oil spots in corn starch.  Once I had everything in the fish bowl that is our dining room, all of the natural light made me acutely aware of the fact that there were a lot more spots than I had originally believed.  Sweet peaches.

Well, I had already mentally committed to salvaging these fabrics, like a true Supermom, so I needed to just suck it up and get to work.  In the mean time, Ian let himself out of solitary and went to play in his room, slamming the door behind him to insure his privacy.  The last thing I wanted to do was be around Ian, so I didn't even bother to reprimand the door slamming and went back to covering everything in corn starch.

Corn starch is an f-ing nightmare.  Its fine particles lingered for minutes in the air after the slightest disruption.  It swirled around me and slowly covered the floor in a thin layer of fine powder.  I was so irritated by the mess I was going to have to clean up because of a mess I was trying to clean up, that I was ready to throw all of the fabrics into the yard and start a fire.  The incessant yelling, "Help us, mommy!" coming from the bedroom wasn't improving my mood at all.  It wasn't a true cry for help, it was more of a whiny, annoying cry for help.  After I finally had all of the oil spots covered, I went to see what could possibly be wrong with the boys now.

I turned the knob and pushed open the door, only to be utterly confused when it wouldn't move.

"Ian.  What are you doing?  Get out of the way, please," I hollered into the room.

"I'm not," he called back.

"What's in front of the door?  Move it," I instructed.

"I can't," Ian whined.

Now, this is hard to describe, but at the time the closet door was open.  Whenever I pushed on the door to the room, the door to the closet would prevent it from opening.  I couldn't see into the room.  I pushed and pushed and pushed, but I could not get the door to open.  I began to panic.  Even though I couldn't see what was going on, I knew exactly what was blocking the door.  I thought about calling my neighbor, Katie, because I didn't know how I was going to be able to get the boys out of the bedroom.  I don't know what I thought she would be able to do, but it seemed like the best possible idea at the time.  I knew the windows were locked, so the only way into the room was through the doorway or busting out a window.  For the next TWENTY minutes, I shoved with all 125 lbs. (yeah, right) of me.  Of course, I was trying to remain cool as a cucumber as my boys were becoming more and more panicked by the minute.  Eventually, I was able to dig deep for every ounce of strength I had, and I knocked the room door free of the closet door.  I was then able to see exactly what I suspected. 

When I had stripped Ian's bed, I had had to take the mattress off of the box spring in order to remove the fitted sheet covering the box spring.  I had left the mattress propped against Eli's crib and didn't think anything about it when I heard Ian slam the door upon his entry of the bedroom.  The boys had knocked the mattress over and it was wedged longways between the door and Ian's bed.  The bedroom door: Could. Not. Open.

Since I couldn't see into the room, I stuck the camera in the room to take a picture and make sure the boys were alright and out of the way.  Aside from being extremely puzzled by the arm sticking through the crack of the door, they were fine.

I was able to stick my arm in the crack and eventually lift the mattress off of the floor.  It was incredibly difficult because it was SUCH an awkward angle and I had to push the door into the mattress in order for the crack to be large enough for me to maneuver my arm freely.  But, ultimately, my children were freed from their self-created prison.

It was then time to go back to the dining room and begin removing the first round of corn starch.  I had to take all of the fabrics over to the sink, shake them out, scrub all of the sticky starch off with a toothbrush, and then inspect the spots.  If the spot was gone, or at least greatly diminished, the fabric went in the "hand wash with dish soap" pile.  If the spot was still there, the fabric went back to the table for another round of corn starch.  The results were not good.  What do you know, the baby oil did exactly what oil does......stained the fabrics.  

After shaking out the first round of corn starch

I was one curtain panel away from cleaning the first round of corn starch off of everything, when I discovered Ian was being a three-year-old boy.

He had climbed into the chair at the end of the table and just helped himself to a little play time in the last remaining pile of corn starch.  I couldn't believe that I was this close to having the first mess under control, and then Ian had to..........be Ian.  If I wasn't in the middle of cleaning up a gallon of baby oil, perhaps this wouldn't have bothered me so much.  But I gotta admit, I was irritated.  I brushed him off, repressed the urge to scream, and sent him on his way.

I now took all of the still-stained linens back to the dining room and covered them in a second round of corn starch.  The corn starch was still a nightmare, just as it was the first time, but I was hopeful that it would work.  Maybe it's just the tightwad in me, but I really thought that all of my efforts to clean the baby oil would be rewarding or something.  They didn't feel rewarding at all.  All I felt was thoroughly irritated and ready to flip out.  I was also read to call Johnson & Johnson what a gigantic load of bull-corn their "child proof" caps 

were.

While the second round of corn starch absorbed the oil for another fifteen minutes, I returned to the sink to scrub the sheets and one curtain panel with dish soap in HOT water.  This was the most ridiculous process I could have ever imagined.  I finally scrubbed the sheets and the first panel well enough that they were ready to go into the washing machine.  I had to wash everything on warm to make sure I didn't set the stain.  While the washer did its thang and the corn starch absorbed the oil, I went to scrub the floor again.  Then it was back to the sink to scrub all of the linens with a toothbrush in order to remove all of the corn starch.  By this point, Eli's quilt, one more curtain panel, and Ian's pillow sham were ready to be scrubbed with dish soap in hot water.  The fitted sheet for the box spring and the last curtain panel needed ANOTHER round of corn starch.

I got right back to it, submerging my gloved hands in the piping hot water and scrubbing away.  The whole time I was conversing with God.  I kept thinking about everything Lysa had said at the conference.  Talking about facing challenges and behaving according to the way God wants us to behave.  Being calm and patient. Parenting with love and kindness when it is really, really, really difficult.  I could just picture God sitting in a Laz-E Boy, laughing his head off as I tried to remain calm in the midst of my greasy disaster.  What a warped sense of humor.

After I had my starching/soaking/washing under control, I went to scrub the floor for a THIRD and FOURTH time, and I was burning up.  Talk about a work out!  This was insane.  So, I decided to ditch my sweatshirt, and I realized what I disaster I had become.  I was covered in just about as much corn starch as every other piece of fabric in this house.  Gross.  Gross, gross, gross.

 Eventually, things were finishing up in the final step of the cleaning process.  This is the best part. (Not at all true)  You dry everything to see if the whole corn starch/dish soap/washing machine thing works.  BUT.....you can't use the dryer, you have to air dry it because the dryer will what?  That's right, "set" the damn "stain!"  Are.  You.  Kidding.  Me?  So, I now have a gigantic pile of laundry that I am attempting to air dry in my laundry room because you KNOW I don't want to what?  Yes: "Set the Stain."

Once I started arranging the stuff for air drying, I of course went to scrub the floor AGAIN!  Aaaaahhhhh!!!! Are you kidding me?!?!  Damn you, baby oil.  Damn you!

While this entire clean-up effort was under way, I was still "parenting" the boys.  I use that term VERY loosely.  During the clean-up, I allowed the boys to watch TV, which has been outlawed for the past two and a half weeks.  I have no clue what the boys watched.  I'm fairly certain that it was a train DVD, but I'll be honest, they could have popped in Goodfellas and I wouldn't have noticed.  I was just a wee bit busy with something else.  I also managed to feed the boys a snack in the midst of the chaos.  Impressed?  Don't be.  As far as I can recollect, I gave Eli between five and seven Kraft singles, two sticks of string cheese, three packets of Pez, and a Kool-Aid Jammer.  Ian ate one stick of string cheese, three packets of Pez, and sprayed his Kool-Aid Jammer all over the front of the washing machine by accident.  I tossed him a towel, said "Clean it up," and walked back to the sink to hand scrub curtains again.  I just couldn't deal with that mess too.

From discovery to neutralization took three and a half hours!  I am absolutely exhausted.  I can barely walk through the house because my feet absorbed so much oil during the clean-up that it's like walking on ice.  I think that I managed to salvage all of the linens, but at this point I really don't care any more.  I love being a mommy.  It brings me more joy to care for my family than anything else even comes close to bringing.  But, I swear to you, if I have to clean up a full bottle of baby oil one more time...........I'm leaving and never coming back.