Silver Lining

There were storms here last night and it seems as though everyone I've seen from other moms at OT to the cashiers at Kohl's are talking about wind damage and funnel clouds. I have a stormy story, but it happened inside our four walls.

Timothy frequently engages in irrational behavior. Shocking, I know. A three-year-old with a screw loose. I get that this is not a news flash and doesn't even seem the least bit odd. I can tell when he's having a particularly defiant day. He and his siblings are in a constant battle for control of whatever object the three of them deem to have the most value at any given point. They'll pass by me in a flash clutching said object and literally running for their lives. My smart boy Timothy has figured a way around this unending battle. He decided that the only way to ensure his permanent control of the coveted object is to send it away. Out of the house. Courtesy of the kids' room potty. I've heard a couple of questionable stories from the kids like, "Mommy, Timothy flushed (insert object here) down the toilet...." and I've wondered whether it really happened or if they're just trying to suck me into their drama. Yesterday, however, all three agreed upon what had transpired and I had no choice but to take their word on it.

Timothy was hanging out with Joey in the bathroom while he, well, did his business. I don't discourage this. I want for Timothy to be a member of the big boys club and who better to cheer him on than his big bro. However, I'm always a little hesitant to turn my back on the two of them due to the high probability that there will be a mess to clean up afterward. Something distracted me. (Surely it wasn't THE PHONE!) Mary called me in and tells me that Timothy flushed her favorite jeweled dragonfly hair clip that her Grandma bought her at the mall and her green caterpillar hair comb. Wow, I thought. No amount of discipline will bring those things back. And that comb's awfully big. But what's a girl to do now?

Today, during Timothy's nap, Joey was, well, doing his business (Sorry, Joe. No privacy here.) and I reminded him that he needed to flush the toilet if he was going to repeatedly wipe. After he reached back and pulled the flusher he started shrieking that the water was coming up instead of down. Don't panic, I thought. I rushed in there and bargained with the potty. Please don't overflow. Just stop right there. I'll do anything you want. Just NO POOP WATER ON MY FLOOR!! I got out the plunger and tried to dislodge the mound of paper it takes to wipe a four-year-old hiney and realized that the toilet might not be working at its peak capacity. I called George who dutifully said he'd stop by Home Depot and pick up the snake thingy to clean it out. Really I'm shocked we don't already own one.

Okay, so after dinner (here's where the story gets good - ) we all headed upstairs with this new tool that Joey declared to be totally awesome to do some manly playing in the potty. I explained to Timothy that when he flushes unauthorized objects down the potty that it can make the potty sick (huh?) and not work well. George valiantly fished the caterpillar comb from the toilet while I tried to keep a one-year-old from getting in the way and tried to keep from wretching from the thought of all the poop water. We threw away the comb, which oddly enough Mary thought we'd be giving back to her (ew, NO) and George headed to the garage to put away our new favorite man tool.

Timothy called down to George, in the midst of all the normal chaos, and said, "Daddy, I'm sorry I flushed it down the potty. I not do it again." Stop. What was that? Say it again, son. He repeated his heartfelt, unprovoked act of regret and repentance. Now, who knows what he might flush down the potty tomorrow or a week from now, but I'll take what I can get. It was a happy moment for George and I both. The silver lining in my really long story about a boy who knows that the toilet is the last stop in the fight for contol in our happy little family. That's my boy. Do I think he'll keep his word and refrain from frantically disposing of random things of value? Nope. Not at all. But he got it. In that moment. And we loved it.