Renewing Rains

The other day I wrote how the little kids and I were finding a comfortable routine. The same day I was thinking how peaceful it is at home even with three kids running around. Today, I threw all that out the window, put those kids out in the back yard and double-locked the door. I've calmed down since, but I was ready to box them up and mail them to their grandparents where I know there is always enough love to go around. By the end of the day, I was not feeling very loving toward the three youngest.

The day started as normal. . . the kids were fed, we waved goodbye to Daddy and Will, we came inside and got them dressed, just to get naked a few minutes later when they went outside to play. Remember: I'm okay with that -- that means I'm not spending hours getting mud stains out of clothes. So with the "please stay out of the muddy water" request, I set about to dealing with the loads of laundry that have been piling up while I've been getting consignable clothes cleaned. While I was changing a load, they (SURPRISE!) got muddy. By the time they are even a little bit muddy, it doesn't matter. They'll need a bath to get a little mud off, so why fight it? They played outside until lunchtime, I fed them at the picnic table, then I took them inside for a leisurely bath. We followed bath time with nap time. As I mentioned: the day started like any other day.

Then nap time came. Several times, I found three children in one bed. After a few scoldings and spankings, I went into their room and Ben had finally fallen asleep. Maddie and Jon, on the other hand, were back in the same bed, naked, and had rolled up their diapers and were seeing how far they could throw them. Scolding, spanking, start over. Not but a few minutes later, I heard the thud. . . thud . . . hehehe. . . .hehehehe again. Again, throwing the diapers at the door. Again, bare-butt spank. Again, diaper toss. Again, bare-butt spank. By then I was beyond angry, and Ben hadn't slept very long before he was awakened. Not a happy afternoon at that point.

As I finished up my tasks, those three little squirts who were supposedly playing in the adjacent playroom slipped past me and went downstairs. I heard a crash and went running to see what they were up to. Those three teamed up to get a snack, but managed to dump a nearly new can of Parmesan cheese on the dog's head. I am supposing at this point because there was a mountain of cheese on the floor and a big white cloud of it on the back of Shadow's neck. The rest was on the dog's tongue, on the kids' feet, or in the many, many little footprints all over the kitchen. I made Ben, Maddie, and Jon sit and watch me vacuum and clean all the other bottles of condiments that made it to the floor. And, of course, there was a full stick of frozen butter that had been gnawed on, but I promise the butter Ben chewed in July was thrown in the trash and this was a different one. Needless to say, I was pretty peeved when I loaded them in the car to go get Will from school, and when I returned, I was even more frustrated because I listened to Jon scream and squeal the entire 20 minutes we were gone. He actually needs a nap, whether he takes one or not.

I tried being a pleasant Mama. I spent some time going through Will's school folder letting him tell me about his projects from the day, and I found a paper about soccer. Suddenly remembering I wanted to call about karate, I rushed upstairs to google the phone number and am gone only a few moments. I came back downstairs to make the phone call, and as I'm descending, a strong smell hits me. . . hard. The weird thing was that it was a strangely fresh, clean scent. I walked a few steps and saw three sets of eyes peeking at me and heard a chorus of uh-oh's coming from the laundry room. As I approach, three pairs of legs scrambled to safety but ended up slipping and sliding through more than a gallon of bright orange "renewing rain" scented Tide liquid detergent. Um. Yeah. I cried and screamed for at least ten minutes, realized my neighbor wasn't home, so I called Allen for help. I had to leave him a message and I later found out he thought one of our pets died because of my desperate sobbing. For safety reasons, I put the three kids in the bath for the second cleaning of the day, but I didn't need soap this time since they were covered in it. I had to be careful not to get it in their eyes because they had already rubbed the orange goop into their hair. After that bath, they smelled like renewed rain, and still had a bit of a slick to their skin. Allen called as I was drying them off, I explained the situation, and he told me to put them out in the backyard and lock the door. Before you go thinking we are bad parents for doing that, please remember 1.) they get muddy and don't think anything of walking through an unlocked door to sit on the couch, 2.) I wouldn't be at the door to clean them up if I was cleaning the soap up, 3.) it had been a rough day. So from the tub to the porch they went -- nope, I didn't dry them first. Nope, I didn't dress them. Nope, not even a diaper -- Why? They just strip outside anyway.

I helplessly threw a dozen towels on the mess and still needed another couple dozen towels to clean the rest up. While I did that I called the Tide helpline for advice. . . how do I get it all cleaned up without staining things orange? How do I keep it from being sticky or slimy without filling the house with bubbles? How many towels can I wash with all the soap in it? After all, I was sopping up 60 loads-worth of soap. In the end, the "professionals" were clueless -- most people don't make such a big mess, and if they did, they certainly would not admit it. Keep in mind, this isn't a big-mouthed bottle. The kids had to push a button to slowly drain it, or they had to remove the lid and slowly pour all of it out. I'm guessing it was all of the above since it was all over the washer, all over the door, all over the cats' crate, all over the wall, all over the floor, and as you know, all over the kids. We got more towels, and more, and more. As I saturated the towels, Allen and Will took them to the driveway, hosed them off, then wrung them out. I took some of the damp towels and cleaned the floor some more, took them back out, they rinsed them. We repeated this for two hours while the triplets played in the backyard. Eventually, it started pouring rain -- real rain with the "renewing rain." Will and Allen used some soapy towels to clean the car, I used some to mop some more of the hallway, kitchen, and laundry room, then I used my Hoover Floor-mate and cleanser to vacuum and mop the soaped and cheesed places. Whew. Almost done.

Wrong. Those rascals were using the flowing downspouts in the backyard to fill up all the vessels they could find -- the Frisbee, the toy teacups, the Tonka truck, the toilet bowl. What were they doing with all the water? I had to know, so I stopped and just watched. Hmmm. Nice. Dumping it on their heads or sipping it. Lovely. Lovely. I was glad I had cleaned the potty chair and disinfected it after lunch. I don't think they used it since, but I couldn't be sure, either, so I only did cheek-kisses at bedtime. Yuck.

I also observed as they painted each other with wet chalk and dipped their heads in the mud puddle. When Ben soaked his head in the mud, he also stopped to show off to Jon and Maddie that he could blow bubbles in it. I think at that point I was in the blank-stare mode. Allen had to poke me to see if I was awake.

Thankfully, Allen was there. Thankfully, he bathed them for the THIRD time in six hours. And thankfully, I snapped pictures of some of the adventure because I'm sure one day I might just laugh at this disastrous day. While I went to pick up dinner (I wasn't about to cook after all that), Allen got a picture of the bathtub AFTER the third bath. Disgusting, but mostly purple chalk-paint with a bit of mud. At dinner, Allen mentioned that there was a bit of "lemonade" to the events. My mind turned and turned trying to figure out what he was talking about. I kept thinking that "lemonade" was a code-word for "urine" and was trying to decipher the hidden meanings to what he couldn't mention in front of the kids at dinnertime. It turned out that he meant that "we took our lemons and made lemonade" but I was such a pessimist by that point of the day. Our "lemonade" was that the car and floors got cleaned. The downsides -- the neighbors thought we were doing our laundry by hand with the hose in the driveway. My throat hurts a little bit more than it did this morning, but I'm not sure if its from the yelling and crying or if I'm getting the kids' cold. We ended up with many, many, many loads of towels that thankfully still had a little soap in them since our bottle of soap that was supposed to last 60 loads is empty. At this rate, though, we may end up with 60 loads of towels, in which case, the ad was right.

I went out for coffee with a friend tonight and was glad to get away. We still had rain showers off and on this evening, but I chuckled when I got out of the car when I got home. It turns out our driveway still has the distinct smell of "renewing rain" and I think it's probably the prettiest smelling driveway in the neighborhood.

In case you are wondering what it takes to clean up 150 ounces of liquid detergent, . . . two adults, one 5-year old, two-and-a-half-hours, 25 large bath and beach towels, 4 loads of laundry each on double rinse-and-spin cycles. Thank you so much, Allen, for coming home, doing all the laundry, and letting me get out for a few hours. I am so blessed to have you as my husband!