Saturday, August 9, 2008

Am I Blue? Am I Blue? Ain't This Paint on My Face Tellin' You?

Oh, man... where do I even BEGIN with this one!!! I'd barely woken up this morning, and was on the potty, when R. came downstairs and "announced" that S. had "somehow" gotten into a tube of blue paint from one of R's craft kits (all of which should have been thrown away by now, by the way), and when I finally saw S.... she looked like a member of the Blue Man Group. Or an Oompa-Loompa.

She was blue from head to toe!

So, I had to wash her completely down first thing this morning. That was it. It was the final straw that broke this camel's hump. I gave R. her medicine (so she wouldn't be off the wall), and told her to go wake up her brother (who's been taking it upon himself to sleep the day away lately! I warned him last night that I'd be getting his lazy butt up out of bed bright and early this morning, and I wasn't kidding!!), and TOGETHER they would clean her room, then clean his.

He came downstairs, all mopey and grumpy 'cause he had to get up so early, and I told him that he had to clean too. He said, "R's not going to help me clean", so I told him to send her back downstairs and I'd take care of it.


When she came down, I said to her, "I'm only going to say this once, so you had better listen. If I hear, one time, that you're not helping to clean, not only will I tell your brother to stop cleaning and make YOU finish both rooms BY YOURSELF, but when your father comes home from work, I'm going to have him remove EVERYTHING out of your room but your bed. That means your TV, your Gamecube and all of your games, your CD player and all of your CD's, your desk, your nightlight, your lamps, your toys.... EVERYTHING. And... you will be made to sleep in your room with JUST YOUR BED."

I knew that the threat of her not having a light or some kind of sound would be enough to move her tiny little hiney in gear. They've been upstairs cleaning ever since. I've been informed that they've finished R's room, and they've now moved on to N's. I told him that I want everything up off of the floor and put away where it belongs, 'cause when they're done cleaning, he's to come down, get the vacuum cleaner, and vacuum both rugs.

Tough love sucks, but it works!

And, what's my little one been doing the whole time? Sitting quietly on the chair in the living room, watching Dora, and peacefully rubbing her beloved "pup pup" on her nose. They're soooooooo much better when they're separated!

6 comments:

Final score:Boys 5 Girls 0 said...

This is one of those times where a post is no good without a picture! I can only imagine her coverd in blue stuff! Better you than me, I hate messes like that, et I know the kids enjoy it way more than the mommies do!

Mama C. said...

Ya know... I thought about the notion of taking a picture of her after all was said and done, but I was just so darn MAD that it didn't occur to me when I first caught sight of her!

We just came back from an afternoon at the park (the skies cleared up enough to bring them for a bit, thankfully), and I could see small little specks of blue on her STILL, as she stood in the sunlight. Oh, and she still has a blue bellybutton.

I'm just soooooo thankful that it was at least washable paint. I don't know what I would have done if it wasn't (except maybe get her lessons on how to play the drums on PVC piping! :)

Reddirt Woman said...

My baby brother (who was born on my 3rd b.d. and I'm 63 now) and I were in church this morning and the man leading the praise before the sermon asked us to join hands with someone while he said a prayer. Since I was next to him on one side, he took my hand and on the other side I held hands with his son-in-law. The prayer went on longer than usual and when it was over and we let go of each other's hand, my brother leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I think the last time I held your hand this long was to keep you from hitting me.." We were very close, but also competitive, wrestling playing ball and sometimes having a bit of a fight. So I guess what I'm saying is that sibs are sibs are sibs and will have problems with each other from time to time and as "the mom" or "the dad" sometimes you have to lay down the law for cooperation and hope they don't kill each other. We are still probably, out of 6 chilren, the closest two...

Sibs usually do work things out, if that gives you any hope..

Helen G.

FlipFlop Mom said...

Well.. ummm.. my son when he was three.. colored his "man parts" with blue marker after a bath.. before I went to the dr's.. and I didn't know it UNTIL we got to the Dr's.. ( cause he dressed himself)... The Dr thought it was funny.. I.. well.. DIED!!!

Kids are SUPER GREAT!!! I keep reminding myself!! tee hee

Mama C. said...

Oh, I know, Helen...I'm the youngest of six, too, and even though the last three of us were spaced WAAAAAYYYYY far apart, my older brother (the one second "up" from me), and I definitely had our moments! His favorite thing to do was to punch me in the arm, in the same place, EVERY SINGLE TIME, so I wouldn't bruise anywhere else. When I went to complain to my mother about his misbehavior, she'd look at my arm, and always say, "That bruise was already there! Stop lying to me!" I finally got wise to it (at the ripe old age of 8 or 9) and finally figured well enough to say to my mother "How long does it TAKE before a bruise heals? He keeps punching me in the same place!" It was then she realized that maybe I wasn't lying after all.

I had this blood-curdling dislike for him, for AGES... until he met my SIL and moved out to go live with her. I cried, and cried, and cried. It was such a sad thing to have him leave the house (especially where I was the only kid left at home).

Most of my growing up, though, was spent alone. He's seven years older than I, so he was out cruisin' with his buds when was 8 years old. By the time I was old enough to even realize he was more a person and less of a "brother", he was gone with his friends almost every weekend.

I never had much of an opportunity to dispute with, fight with, quarrel with , pick on, or get picked on by anyone. So this CONSTANT bickering and screaming at one another and "he did" and "she said" is just driving me up the nearest tree!

I just can't wait until they ALL grow out of it, and peace is restored in my house once again. At that point, though, I do believe my vocal chords will be permanently damaged from yelling at them to knock it off so much. I already have the beginnings of that "Mama furrow" in between my eyebrows. Trust me... it ain't pretty! :)

Mama C. said...

Hmmmmm.... blue "boy parts". The doctor must have gotten a real kick out of that one! Did your son have a reason for drawing "down there", or is it just the simplicity of the fatal attraction of kids and the color blue that caused him to have his momentary lapse of sanity?

It reminds me of a joke I heard once, actually:

I was due later in the week for an appointment with the gynecologist. Early one morning I received a call from the Dr.'s office to tell me that I had been rescheduled for that morning at 9:30 a.m. I had only just packed everyone off to work and school, and it was already around 8:45.

The trip to his office was about 35 minutes, so I didn't have time to spare. As most women do, I like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, but this time I wasn't going to be able to make the full effort. So I rushed upstairs, threw off my dressing gown, wet the washcloth that was sitting next to the sink, and gave myself a quick wash in "that area" to make sure I was at least presentable.

I threw the washcloth into the clothes basket, donned some clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my appointment. I was in the waiting room only a few minutes when I was called in.

Knowing the procedure, as I'm sure you do, I hopped up on the table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended I was in Paris or some other place a million miles away.


I was a little surprised when the Dr. said, "My, we have made an extra effort this morning, haven't we?" But, I didn't respond. When the appointment was over, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home.

The rest of the day was normal - some shopping, cleaning, cooking, etc. After school while my six-year-old daughter was playing, she called out from the bathroom, "Mum, where's my washcloth?" I told her to get another one from the cupboard. She replied, "No, I need the on that was here by the sink. It had all my glitter and sparkles in it."

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

That one makes me laugh, every single time.

It also makes me check the washcloth on my sink before I go to use it! ;)