The First 30 Minutes of My Day Today, Blog Day #16

It is very early in the morning when Ethan wakes up.  He is his usual self.  Maybe a little more than his usual self. He starts off the morning by playing, very loudly, with Hank. After a couple of bangs on the wall, I get out of bed and tell him to get out.

So he does, giggling.

I tell him to go walk the dog.

No more giggling. He immediately changes to whimpering (I'm not exaggerating) and whining, "But I'm hungry."

Because of last night's skimpy dinner, I say he can have a bowl of cereal. "But hurry up."

So he pours himself some Trader Joe's Crisp Rice and goes to get the milk out of the fridge. Yes, with his very full bowl of Crisp Rice. And the milk hasn't been opened yet. He pulls it out of the refrigerator. To keep from dropping the heavy gallon of milk, he swings his other arm up. Yes, with the bowl of dry Crisp Rice. Needless to say, the Crisp Rice was now decorating my clean kitchen floor.

"Sorry, Mom."

While he's cleaning up, I notice my wallet is laying open on the kitchen counter. I go to investigate and to shut it.  I notice that the contents are damp and my wallet is sitting in a mini-puddle. Right next to my wallet is Charlotte's full-of-green-cleaner spray bottle she made at Daisies.

"Who sprayed this?" I am almost yelling.

Ethan's eyes grow big, giving away his guilt. I ask a question I already knew the answer to, "Did you spray this?"

"Yes."
"For crying out loud, Ethan, you got it all over my wallet and now it's going to smell like vinegar."

"Sorry, Mom."

I walk around the counter to get myself a drink of water, and I step on a few pieces of Crisp Rice. And see that Ethan is having trouble picking up the last handful. "Go get the vacuum."

He pours himself milk into his bowl. Now my feathers are ruffled.
"Go get the vacuum!" I say in a not-so-happy voice.

*whimper. He whines, "I don't know where it is."
"It's in the laundry room."

He walks down the hallway and passes the laundry room. While I am busy with Henry and serving him cereal, Ethan has wandered around the small hallway and forgets what he is doing.
"GO GET THE VACUUM!" I yell while I am walking in a threatening manner towards him.
"I don't know where it is!"
"Right here in the laundry room!" (We are both standing next to it.)

I leave him in there to take the vacuum to his mess. A minute later, I hear the Swifter Mop being sprayed, many times.
"What are you spraying?!"
"Nothing." And comes out with the vacuum.


I go to the laundry room, knowing that it wasn't "nothing." And sure enough, a puddle is under the Swifter.

"For crying out loud, Ethan, what were you thinking? This is not a toy!"

"Sorry, Mom."


He vacuums the mess. I grab a cleaning rag and sop up the other mess.


I am still in my pajamas and I haven't brushed my hair or my teeth yet. I don't have my contacts in so everything is fuzzy. I've only gotten 5 hours of sleep before Zoe came in to wake me up. I am not in a great mood at all. So I am practically storming down the hallway to the kitchen and step on a wet spot on the tile, right next to my brand new Rubbermaid mop that has a spray bottle attached for your cleaning solution.

"Did someone spray this?" I grumble.

Charlotte and Zoe say, "Yes, Ethan did."


By now, he has hastily vacuumed a part of his mess as well as any 7 year old can. He looks at me, once again, with big guilty eyes. He's wondering what I'm going to do. I give him that privileged look that only moms can give. "Get some paper towels and clean this up!"

"Yes, Mom. Sorry, Mom."


Finally, he sits down to eat his cereal. I vacuum the newly crushed wayward pieces of Crisp Rice. When he finishes, he starts playing around with Henry. Being the good mom I am, I remind him, "Go walk the dog NOW."


*whimper. He whines, "But it's cold outside."


*sigh