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"Toilet Artist" For Sale! (November 29)
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Anyone want a three year old? I've got one for sale. Well, perhaps I'm not quite ready to sell him, but I'm tempted to at least loan him out.
Today was a day of nerve-wracking toilet themed creative expression from Ryan...
Example #1: He practiced writing his letters - Ws to be exact. Great, right? Yes, except that his medium and canvas of choice were quite interesting. The darling child was sent to use the bathroom this afternoon. When he didn't return after a few minutes, I went looking and found him in the middle of hall, naked, proudly aiming to make Ws on the floor as he peed. The entire bathroom and hallway floors were covered in these wonderful  Ws. Of course, his pants and socks were also soaked, as were James', since he had followed his big brother to the bathroom.
Example #2: In a moment of brilliant creativity, Ryan reasoned that Tyler's mouthguard (for tooth grinding in his sleep) would make a fantastic boat. The ONLY possible perfect body of water for a mouthguard boat is the toilet, of course. I suppose Tyler will have to do without a mouthguard for tonight!
And finally, example #3: Ryan was tucked in to bed and should have been asleep. I heard him run down the hall and a few minutes later, the toilet flushed and he ran back to his room. Great, right? He's finally potty trained well enough to get up out of bed and take himself. Then, not two minutes later, running feet and another flush. A third flush and a fourth before I can make it up all of the stairs to see what sort of mischief he's found.
The answer became evident as I got to the top of the staircase and smelled the undeniable aroma of Vicks Baby VapoRub! My darling boy and his baby brother are both recovering from colds and apparently, the jar of VapoRub didn't get put up quite high enough. The boy had made a beautiful modern art masterpiece all the way down the hall - big handprint smears on the wall every foot or so. Bad, yes?
Of course, during the creation of this terrific "painting", he also managed to smear the greasy stuff on every doorknob, all over the toilet, all over himself, and all over the bathroom counter and sink. When he heard me coming up the stairs, he made it even better by running to his bed, so now his sheets are full of stinky greasy VapoRub, too.
The reasoning behind the multiple toilet flushes that had first gotten my attention? He realized that he'd done something he shouldn't and was trying to cover up the evidence by flushing the jar down the toilet, or so he claims. RamblingDad and I are both baffled as to how it could have actually gone down and not caused a major backup, but we've torn apart that entire floor of the house and found only the lid, which was next to the toilet, so perhaps his story is true?
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 Posted by Arby
Wow. I've passed the torch. It's no longer my children doing that stuff. Wow... [Permanent Link]
Posted by Arby
It is safe to say that next time The Boss tells me that there’s an open position for deployed analysts, and she asks if I mind if she goes, my answer will not be a casual, “Yeah, I don’t mind.” She left on July 18th for a five month deployment to Baghdad. Yes, that Baghdad. The one in Iraq. There is an even better chance that the next time The Boss asks me if we can hatch some chicken eggs right before she deploys for half a year, my reply will not be, “Let me build you a coop.” She painted the coop “Va-va-voom,” and the paint color’s name accurately described its appearance. We had a chicken bordello in our backyard. I repainted the Best Little Chicken House in Kansas with “Barn Red” paint so that our neighbors wouldn’t be concerned about any fowl activity in the area. These were just two of the events that highlighted one of the most unusual years that I have had since The Boss enticed me to join her in Kansas City 14 years ago when she said, “Come with me and I promise you an adventure.”
In May, we took Captain Chaos to Children’s Mercy Hospital for an evaluation with Laura, the Occupational Therapist who helped Captain Chaos learn to eat real food a few years ago. Laura suggested immobilization therapy for Captain Chaos. We agreed to the procedure, and Captain Chaos spent the month of May with a purple cast on her right arm. Casting Captain Chaos was enormously beneficial. It forced her to learn to use her left hand more effectively. The down side to casting Captain Chaos was that we installed a club on the hand of a girl who held absolutely no inhibitions about slapping around her brothers whenever it suited her mood. It was The Boss who took the worst shot. If life had comic book sound effects like in an Adam West Batman fight, our bedroom would have filled with a bright blue “THONK!” after Captain Chaos, who was bouncing on our bed next to The Boss, jumped in the air, landed on her fanny, and clocked her mother in the forehead with her cast. It sounded like a baseball hitting a wooden bat.
“That’s gonna leave a mark!” I laughingly observed.
“I’m going to tell people that you beat me,” The Boss replied.
Major Havoc ran into the room after hearing The Boss yelp. “Are you okay, mommy?” he asked.
“I’m fine, honey,” she replied. “I just got hit with Captain Chaos’s purple glove.” “Purple Glove” was Major Havoc’s name for the cast.
“Oh, yeah,” he giggled, with genuine understanding. “That hurts!”
May was also the month when we incubated chicken eggs. The kids loved watching the birds hatching and holding the chicks. Just my luck, 3 of the 4 chickens turned out to be roosters, and by the end of the summer, long after The Boss departed for the Middle East, my mornings began at 0530 when they awoke and started crowing. Tending to three roosters and one very nervous hen was not what I had in mind when I agreed to keep the birds. I gave away two roosters and traded the third for two hens. We now have three hens (one Americauna and two Rhode Island Reds) that keep our yard bug free, the lawn well fertilized, and provide a steady supply of brown and blue organic eggs. The kids love chasing, catching, and holding the chickens. It’s great exercise!
One item that The Boss checked off of her pre-deployment “To Do” list, right before “Pass a kidney stone two nights before departure,” was to complete her oral boards for her Masters degree before leaving the country. Actually, she would have run for the border without giving her degree a second thought if not for one her professors, who asked her, “When are you going to get this finished?” Unable to think of a quick excuse, she scheduled her orals for late June, and spent one month cramming six year’s worth of studies into her noggin’. Her efforts we rewarded when she successfully completed her boards. The Boss earned an MS in Operations Research from the Kansas State University School of Engineering. Don’t bother asking. None of us really know what that means, either.
The children have tolerated their mother’s absence quite well. General Mayhem still studies Karate on Monday nights. He is currently a red belt, and tests for advancement this month. He enjoys Boy Scouts on Tuesday nights. In his first year of scouting, he has participated in many camp-outs, earned his Tenderfoot badge, and five merit badges. He enjoys the volunteer activities that involve physical labor more than he enjoys the meetings. He is in the sixth grade and in his fifth year of homeschooling. On Wednesday nights he attends Confirmation class at our church.
Major Havoc joined our homeschool this year as a kindergartener. He also started Tiger Scouts last September. I cannot tell whether or not he really understands what he is doing in Tiger Scouts, but he gets to wear a cool uniform and hang out with kids and play. Every once in a while someone gives him a patch for his shirt that he has absolutely no idea why he is getting. Tiger Scouts lets him be cool like his big brother. Major Havoc, who is going to rival his mother in the freckles department, has a huge smile, bright eyes, an infectious giggle, and a thirst for chasing down and catching chickens. Every day we watch the birds race across the yard, followed closely by a maniacally cackling Major Havoc. One of his biggest thrills comes each day when he finds an egg in the coop and can bring it into the house and place it in the refrigerator. He’s a fun kid.
Captain Chaos starts each day by exiting her bed shortly before dawn, climbing into my bed, and balancing her milk cup on my head. I awake to the sounds of, “Milk, daddy. Daddy, milk? Milk please, daddy.” The arrival of a full cup of milk does not guarantee that I will be allowed to sleep longer, as the chatterbox is usually just getting warmed up. All the important things that a four-year-old has to say are spoken before 6 a.m., well before my first cup of coffee, during that period of time when only the unconditional love of a father for his daughter assures her continued survival. Captain Chaos does attend preschool four days each week where she receives her Speech and Occupational Therapy. The speech therapist recently sent me a note telling me that they were working on two word phrases. I need to let Captain Chaos sleep at her house for a week.
Our family will be reunited when The Boss returns home in mid-December, just in time to celebrate Christmas. While you celebrate Christmas, please keep in your prayers all the servicemen and women, and civilians, who will spend their holidays overseas, and their families back at home. May God’s blessings be visited upon you during the Christmas season and throughout 2009.
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