After the Pumpkin Incident
by Juliana

The pumpkin incident (see the previous blog entry) is still only a few hours old, but it’s already starting to pale in comparison to recent catastrophes.
Call it paranoia—call it inexperience—call it a generalized anxiety disorder (you won’t be the first)—or call it whatever you will. I have always felt very uncomfortable leaving Joseph alone while I shower, do chores, etc. Even for a few minutes, I think he must be causing some great catastrophe. This has always led me to watch him closely at almost every minute.
Josh has told me I’m ridiculous and I should just put him in his crib while I shower. I still shower when Joseph is napping or asleep for the night. People tell me I can do the dishes while Joseph is playing in the kitchen. That just reminds me of the time we were at my Mom’s house, and she was unloading the dishwasher. We all turned our backs for approximately one one-millioneth of a second, and we turned back, Joseph was running across the kitchen blissfully holding up two steak knives. At any rate, I always like to do my chores when Joseph is sleeping so I don’t have any unpleasant surprises to come back to.
Well, today I was thinking, “I shouldn’t be so paranoid. Joseph is fine—he’s just playing happily in the other room.” So I got out the vacuum to clean up the remainders of the pumpkin incident, and ran the vacuum around the family room. One room. That’s all. I didn’t even go down the hall. It must have taken, oh, three minutes? Well, my anxiety disorder (or whatever you want to call it) kicked in and I thought, “I better go check on Joseph.”
I walked down the hall, and heard a loud, “Splooooooooooosh..” I looked into the bathroom at the end of the hall. All I could see was water pouring over the edge of the sink, streaming onto the tile floor below. I ran as fast as I could and looked into the bathroom. Joseph was standing on the toilet, with the water in the sink on full-blast. He had learned a new trick. If you pull up on that thingee behind the faucet, it makes the water stay in the bowl! Oh the joys of childhood!
I looked helplessly at the situation, not knowing what to do first. Instinct kicked in and I simultaneously unstopped the sink and turned off the rushing water. I then picked up Joseph, who was drenched from head to foot, and deposited him in his crib, trying to sound very serious and harsh as I told him what a bad thing he had done. I opened the linen closet and grabbed the only two towels I could find, thinking how this was like stopping Niagara Falls with a paper towel. I did the best I could cleaning up the floor, then noticed a small dripping coming from inside our cabinets.
I opened the bottom drawer, which had half an inch of water swishing back and forth in it. I mopped it out and proceeded to do the same thing with the middle drawer. I then opened the top drawer, which I discovered to be filled to the top with water and soggy toys. It was around this time that I felt my temperature rising a little higher than comfortable. I tried to breathe deeply as I thought through the situation. Eventually I figured out how to take the whole drawer out of the cabinet and dump the water into the bathtub.
Around this time, I started to notice happy, playful sounds coming from Joseph’s crib. I walked into his room, dripping drawer in hand, and saw Joseph jumping happily up and down in his crib. I was in no mood for this. I put the drawer down on the floor, hoping it might drain a bit more, and starting peeling off Joseph’s soggy clothing.
I tried to explain to him what a bad thing he had done, and I think he eventually got the point because I haven’t seen him that cooperative for a diaper change since he was about 12 hours old. I went back into the bathroom to finish up a few things, and with the help of a few more towels, got the situation pretty well under control. I went back into Joseph’s bedroom and found something for him to wear. I felt so angry about the situation, but at the same time I didn’t feel any anger for Joseph at all. I simply wanted him to learn so that this behavior wouldn’t be a problem in the future. I said, “You’re getting the longest time out of your life, kid. Have a good nap.” I kissed him on the forehead and walked out of the room. He started crying.
It’s funny about being a parent. You can feel devastated by a brand-new bathroom dripping water onto unsealed tile grout… but then when you hear your child cry because they’re being punished, that pain is even worse.
But you have to suck it up and try to do the things that are best for everyone involved. Sometimes that means letting your baby cry it out, so they can grow up. And sometimes that means sitting on your hands and knees in an inch of water trying not to blow your top. And sometimes that means getting out the vacuum the next day, and learning to trust your child again.