Golden Showers or How #7 likes to play

but it looks nice!

Good morning, dear readers!  I am sitting in my living room, watching my fake fire in my fake fireplace and enjoying the quiet as #4, #5, and #6 are at school and #7 is still sleeping.   We had snow yesterday and looking out the window, it seems so pretty and wintery.  Going outside, it’s bitterly cold and snow sucks.    Because I live in central Illinois I have no recourse with our strange weather.  Two days ago it was 60 degrees and we were working in the yard.  Today, it is 10 degrees (-3 with the wind chill) and we have a good inch of frozen snow.

The month of February has been quite challenging for us here on the farm.  We have chickens that have decided to not earn their keep and have stopped laying.  We have a mole infestation in our front yard that must be a braille invitation for other moles to join the party.  We have still not managed to organize, clean, or even enter the man cave barn.

We have also weathered through 3 weeks of sickness from bronchitis to pink eye to colds to stomach flu.  Of course it is also the one time that the kids have ever willingly shared anything, just wish it wasn’t their germs.   We have managed to not go and do anything, not going out to eat, not going to the farm store, not interacting with other people unless they were directly genetically linked to us and had viral infections, so it’s been fun.

We have also been going through that wonderful stage of potty training regression with #7.  If you, as a parent have never had the privilege, let me explain this stage to you.  #7 has been potty trained for almost a year.  Pees on the potty, poos on the potty, he’s even mastering the art of not screaming my name 1000 times while in the bathroom.  Until lately.

#7 has taken it up himself to mark his territory.  Yep, he has been spreading the pee around like Mardi Gras beads at a parade.  And because it is February in Central Illinois, he has not been doing it outside.  It started with our closet smelling funny.  It wasn’t cat urine because it didn’t smell like a meth lab, it wasn’t dog pee because she has a favorite spot on the carpet that she likes.  This was a distinctive disgusting odor that I couldn’t trace.   I got down on all fours to sniff the floor of the closet and found the culprit, so I thought.  A box of miscellaneous bathroom items that hadn’t been quite unpacked.  It smelled awful.  Box was removed, floor of closet mopped.  Smell gone.  Until the next day.

Than we noticed that the bathtub loofahs had the same smell. As did the toy container.  And an empty popcorn tin we found in the parlor.  And #7’s play tent that he got for Christmas.  What the hell was going on?  Had a raccoon maneuvered his way into the house?  Did we have a family of squirrels that where relieving themselves at random inside?  No, no, it was just #7 peeing all over anything that he could:  Bathtub? Check.  Closet? Check.  Toy box? Check.  Heat vent in the living room behind the Laz-Y Boy that nobody ever sits in? Double check.

When confronted with the proof of his actions (which involved him whipping it out in front of #4 and trying to pee on the cat) he simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t know why.  Because.” Well, there you have it.  Just because.  Now he is followed more closely than Trump’s cabinet nominees.   We have pleaded, begged, rationalized (as much as you can with a 3 year old), cajoled, and bribed him to stop turning our house into his own private water closet.  He hasn’t had an “accident” in a couple of days.  I’m hoping that he has realized that peeing in the toilet and not on Mommy’s loofahs in the bathtub is more lucrative for him in his cookie negotiations.

So, yep, February is only 9 days in and has already pretty much kicked our ass.  Here’s to hoping that the rest of the shortest month of the year gets its shit together!

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