I am going to put cute pictures of the kids between paragraphs so that you don't get completely grossed out.
Nate here. I haven't blogged in an absurd amount of time. Turns out that when you accept a promotion and they pay you more, they also give you more to do. Things have been much busier in my life and I have had to adjust to working later and not always making it home in time to spend tons of time with the girls before they go to bed, but I do make it home before bed time most nights - so I think I am doing ok.
The bigger adjustment is probably on Kenzie. Less time with me around means more time with the kids...and that is not all roses all the time. Enter the great poobackle of March. That is the name I gave this day. It happened six days ago, last Thursday evening. I got home in time to pick up the girls from Lixies house while Kenzie was working. I fed them dinner and we went for a run in the jogging stroller and when we got home it was time for a bath. The night had gone very smoothly, with only one outburst when Callie decided to "Hai Yah" Kenna during the run. Then it happened.
I got the girls stripped down and plopped them in the tub. There were bubbles, barbies, and toys galore and everything was going great. I started washing Kenna's hair and while lathering the shampoo into her hair Callie stood up in the tub and got a look of utter concentration on her face. I knew what was happening and time seemed to slow down to a crawling pace. I grabbed Kenna while screaming "nooooooo" and got her out just before Callie's first ammunition hit the water. Kenna was utterly confused for a minute, but realized why I got her out so fast pretty quickly. She was standing on the bathmat with her hair full of shampoo and I decided to try to wrangle Callie onto the toilet. She didn't like that idea and ran to the other end of the tub and starts to cry. At that time Kenna yells "I have to go potty real bad". I realize that both kids can't use the commode at once, so I tell Kenna to hop up on la salle de bain while I try to contains Callie's damage. Kenna tries to hop up, but she was soaking wet still so she slides off the toilet seat and slams into the vanity. She falls into the space between the toilet and vanity with a foot stuck in the trashcan and begins to sob.
I froze. Kenna was crying with a cut on her chin, stuck next to the toilet. She started crying worse because the shampoo from her hair was beginning to drip down into her eyes. All the while, Callie was standing in a pool of awfulness crying from the shock of pooping, me yelling that she was pooping, and Kenna's fall. In that moment, I thought to myself "I can't believe this happens every day and that Kenzie hasn't quit yet." I knew that I should triage and focus on one of the kids, but I didn't know which was more critical. I also remember thinking that I was glad I didn't run in to problems like this at my job.
Things got better quickly. I got Callie cleaned up and Kenna enjoyed taking a shower in my bathroom using mom's loofah. The girls both survived with minimal emotional scarring and I managed to decontaminate the entire crime scene before Kenzie got home. I gained an enormous respect for all mothers during my 3 hours with 2 kids. I am a bit more grateful for my wife and for my mom. I also am considering mandatory swim diapers at bath time for all kids under the age of 2.
