My last 20 minutes:
So, I’m desperately trying to put my DISGUSTING kitchen in some semblance of order when I realize I really need to go to the bathroom. The problem is that I turn around to find that my daughter has pooped and decided to try and change her own diaper. Now she’s stepped in it and the disgusting kitchen has now upgraded to toxic. So… I spray her down and get that mess cleaned up all without defiling myself.
She’s bottomless and content when I (in the bathroom) start this post only to be quickly interrupted by my oldest flying into the bathroom and spitting large amounts of blood into the sink. He is, of course, accompanied by his younger brother who isn’t wanting to miss any of the action and incidentally smashes his half-naked sister behind the door… After getting the blood flow to a reasonable rate I dismiss them to another bathroom to continue the rinse/spit technique.
However, in the bathroom middle child was just too tempted but the stash of make-up brushes on the sink and decided that blood makes a good medium for paint-by-color. As you can guess I am now out the only make-up brush I actually use and he is in solitary confinement for a less than discretionary act. So I return to the original bathroom to spray out the cloth diaper and wipe everything down with some Lysol. What do I find?… My oldest had voluntarily aggravated the wound on the top of his mouth because he’s a boy and spitting blood is really cool. I explain that reinjuring himself may prove life threatening to him since it involves me cleaning up another mess… he gets my point.
And now, I have rinsed the sink for the third time, flushed all the poo away and am deescalating through the only respectable means afforded mothers in the 21st century… telling the world about it over the internet.