Oh man. R has the stomach bug. It's got to be going around and not just in our house. He went to work today anyway. Not me. Nuh-uh. If I'm going to be needing the frequent convenience of a toilet, I want it to be my own. Preferably near my own bed. I'm picky that way. There's little worse for me than having to have my head hanging near where unknown asses have been. It just skeeves me out.
This morning after he left, I Clorox wiped down every doorknob, light switch, and counter top he may have touched. Thanks to that Lysol automatic soap dispenser commercial, I also wiped down the soap dispensers in the bathrooms and kitchen. It makes sense that that's where the germs hang out, so why not at least TRY and kill 'em.
There's a twofold purpose for my frantic disinfecting. First, I don't want the kids or me to get sick again. I'm still not feeling right, and I need to hop back into my routine without feeling like I need to sit down and rest every half hour. I miss Zumba and working out. A lot. But I haven't had the energy to go to gym, much less work out. Secondly, Grammy is coming. Today. We pick her up from the airport at 12:30 today. I'm excited to see her, it's rare that we get her all to ourselves and while I understand it, I miss the relationship we used to have. Let's all cross our fingers and hope that the transition goes smoothly. I'm not sure she realizes what's in store for her here and it's going to kill her that I let the kids (mostly meaning Miss S) get their tantrums out. She's going to want to rush in and fix it, and that only makes Miss S worse. I know because I've tried that route. Miss S does not, in fact, want to be fixed or helped. Miss S wants to have a tantrum. I get it - emotional release and general complaint that the world is unfair. It's a lot better to get 'em out of your system now than to still be having tantrums as an adult, no? Exact-a-mundo.
So I'm really hoping that we are now a stomach virus free house, because if Mom gets sick...oh my. At least I made T clean up his bathroom yesterday so she's got a sparkling clean place in which to get sick. And on that note, as he was cleaning up yesterday he told me, "This is a lot of work, Mom. This is too much work."
Exactly! So I tried to keep the lecture to a minimum (no really, I did!) and explain that if he just goes ahead and wipes it up if he 'sprinkles when he tinkles' that he won't have to spend so much time cleaning the toilet. He thought about this for a second and said, "If I go peepee outside I won't have to clean any toilets." Boys.
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