Mothering a Two-Year-Old: Dear Internet

As I sit at the computer on any given day, I typically am only doing some quick checking to be sure I'm at least somewhat up-to-date on what is going on in the world. And typically, I've got one ear open and on Red-Alert to be sure my two-year-old isn't getting into anything.

Anything can trip the Red-Alert signal; from crashing, to crying, to that ever dead give away - silence.

Typically, I'm on top of things. Typically, I can keep him from getting into stuff, falling off of stuff, and turning all my stuff into a terrific mess.

Apparently, today was not a typical day.

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Dear Internet,

I would like to inform you that you are stampeding upon my natural rights as the mother of a two-year-old.

1. I have the right to clean things up before they get out of hand
2. I have the right to know where my child is, when he is there, so that I can clean things up before they get out of hand.
3. I have the right to be able to get to my child quickly, should I not know where he is exactly when he is there - so that I can clean things up before they get out of hand.
4. These rights give me peace of mind and should never be infringed upon.

I would therefore like to inform you of today's events and sincerely and kindly ask that you take responsibility for them and act accordingly.

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As I'm once again sandblasting junk mail and sniffing through interesting links, I realize that not only have I been half-hearing my son banging things around, but now he is grunting. Since we are in potty training mode, my half listening ear (which has only been listening about 1/16th or less) jumps into full ten-mom listening mode and alerts me to the possibility that I am once again going to be cleaning up poopy underwear. I jump up from my rear-end's place of residence in front of your (Internet's) ever glorious smirk and rush to where he is standing in front of the couch. I proceed to ask him with my utmost motherly calm, "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!?! Do you need to go poopy in THE POTTY???"

And horror fills me as his tiny anatomy comes into view...

...Because all appearances suggest that he discovered poop art.

Brown streaks cover his shirt, his legs, his arms - just about everywhere but his face. I approach him cautiously, trying to touch him without getting dirty myself, and all the while my eyes create a team that would make any CSI squad proud; taking in a perfect 360 degree sweep of the area, noting anything out of the ordinary, photographing it to my memory, and analyzing it down to the microscopic level. Meanwhile my nose's analysis of the smells emanating from my child tell me that I am still safe from poop art and my ingenious offspring has merely invented a new medium.

The empty can of fish food on the floor tells me what his color of choice happens to be for his self-portrait body art.

So I clean him up, change his shirt (I swear I do more laundry for this kid than for my husband and myself combined) and go hunting down the mess. As I leave his bedroom I discover another surprise. The super-duper-ultra-dried-nearly-fried-ittty-bitty-baby-shrimps I feed to the frogs are covering the hallway floor. I have to assume the cat ate most of the mess. The bottle is empty and I don't want to think about finding them in my baby's fecal matter in the next couple of days.

Searching the house, I find the culprit for the artwork. My son has taken the dog's water bowl, moved it from out of the kitchen to under my piano, dumped all the fish food in, and used his drum-stick from his music set to stir it all up into artistic perfection. *sigh* At least he didn't eat it... I hope.

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Dear Internet,

My son's clothes stink. My carpet stinks. I'm sure I will be finding fish food, dried shrimp, and smelliness for weeks to come.

I again plead that you take responsibility for your actions. Rather than haul your electronic butt to court and sue you for every megabyte you are worth, I am willing to settle out of court.  A thorough cleaning of my house - including wiping of walls, mopping of floors, shampooing of carpets and couches, dusting, window washing, drain de-gooping, counter bleaching, laundry folding, toilet scrubbing, shower scouring, and a personal manicure/pedicure/massage/facial/day trip to the spa - will be taken into consideration as appropriate payment of your debt to me. I expect the maids to be here next Saturday while I am on vacation so that I need not be underfoot while they clean up your mess. I look forward to seeing the state of my immaculate house when I return.

Sincerely,
A mother of a Two-Year-Old.