OMG, my house is SUCH A MESS. I went back to work. Bishop Mishegas promised me that we could hire a cleaner to come in, like maybe once a month? Once I was working? Only the thing is daycare for Baby Peanut and after school care for Chaos eats roughly 120% of my salary and about 80% of the Bishop’s salary. It turns out being a salaried, working parent is strictly for rich people! Who knew?
And listen: Chaos Peanut has a new thing she likes to do: throw food. Here’s how it goes. Chaos Peanut is sitting her her special chair eating some food and playing with her “pink toy” which is this electronic game system with cartridges like a junior Game Boy or whatever the kids today have, and also pink. So she’ll be sitting there with a full bowl of “green yogurt” (this is Greek yogurt mixed with pureed spinach, which is her absolute favorite) and she’ll start howling, “I want GREEN YOGURT!” And one of us will make the mistake of pointing out that she has a full bowl of green yogurt right in front of her, at which point Chaos will start howling even more, and then she’ll take her spoon and flick food all over the room. Then the Bishop and I will say, “OK, all done!” and then she’ll throw her pink toy across the room and upend her bowl on the floor.
The “experts” in working with kids with disabilities say you’re supposed to reward good behavior and ignore bad. This is, I think, fine, when good behavior is the norm. But how are you supposed to ignore a kitchen painted with dots of spinach and Greek yogurt? How are you supposed to ignore that, when you get exactly four free seconds per day to clean house, go grocery shopping, do laundry, answer emails, cook a meal, feed and snuggle Baby, and prepare for the next day to do the whole thing again? And instead, I am standing up on a chair trying to determine how to clean spinach out of the light fixture without getting electrocuted.
It was Father’s Day so Bishop, who is such a fantastic father, he really is, took the kids out so I could scrub the kitchen floor. I moved everything out of the way except the table and then I went looking in my cleaning cabinet for some chemicals and I found some Pine Sol. “Oh, hello, Pine Sol! You look like just the thing!” I needed a bucket to dilute it, and that was no problem because I have a bucket! It was in the basement. It was full of dryer lint and the plastic bags the school uses to send home soiled laundry, so I emptied it out and made up some Pine Sol. It said 1/4 cup per gallon, which I took to mean, “some” plus lots of water.
Then I realized that I still don’t have a sponge mop.
I know. I know I meant to buy one, and didn’t I already post how I didn’t own one because of the swofterer thing? Which resulted in Awesome Tracy loaning me her steam mop, and then in an even more awesome act, she GAVE IT TO ME. So, who needs a sponge mop when you have a cool steam mop? The answer, it turns out to be, is anyone with a STICKY floory grime, because while the steam does a very nice job in general, it is not so good with sticky stuff, like upended bowls of spinach and applesauce and who knows what else Chaos threw on the floor. I would have run to the store and just bought a !)@()@!*!!! sponge mop, but I *PROMISED* the Bishop I wouldn’t spend Father’s Day in the grocery store no matter what (paper towels) we desperately (paper towels) needed (paper towels). (and a sponge mop.) So I scrubbed the (!*$(&*@!!! floor on my hands and knees with a not-very-scrubby kitchen sponge which was the only sponge I could find.
I guess we need sponges too.