One of Those Mornings

I had this really deep blog planned that has been on my heart all week, then we had one of those mornings.

While pulling beef roast from the crock pot to put in freezer bags, I notice that Gus is too quiet. I go to investigate and find him happily unspooling an entire roll of toilet paper into the toilet with the cat's supervision. He looks up at me and squeals with glee. "Look mommy what I did! For you!" He throws his hands in the air in a very TA DA! fashion.

I sit him in my room and go back to the bathroom to scoop the toilet paper out of the toilet. Our bathroom is a construction zone and I don't really want to deal with an overflow today. I finish cleaning up that mess and go back to the kitchen where Gus is engaging in his new hobby, abstract trash montages which mostly involves removing every piece of trash from the trash can and connecting the themes with anything that has sufficient smearing properties. After the 3-D exhibit is complete he adds a performance art aspect to the show, which lately has involved holding a pop can with just a finger through the opening or some sort of garbage can urban beat scenario. Today was the pop can feat. I give him a pot to play with while I clean up that mess, finish up dealing with the contents of the crock pot, and banish him to the living room to play while I drink a Pepsi.

While I am sitting on the couch drinking my soda, I glance over and he is studiously pouring salt into every crevice of his piano entertainer and his little papasan chair. Where did he find that? I sit down my pop to go rescue the salt shaker and pull out the vacuum. I'm cleaning up that mess when it occurs to me that he isn't interfering with the vacuum. He loves vacuum cleaners. Loves chasing them and hitting them when he catches them. Loves unplugging them. Loves swinging the cord around. I look around and find him sitting on the floor drinking Pepsi by upending the can four inches above his upturned face and open mouth. He looks like he took a shower in Pepsi. He sees me, gives me that "What?" face and gives me the "Watch this cool trick face" as he holds the can off to the side upside down and watches it pour into the carpet. Seeing me coming, he pulls the can to his mouth sticks his tongue in the opening and cuts himself.

I strip down a still screaming bucking baby, wash him off, cuddle him for about 30 seconds, put him in his crib, shut the door and return to the living room. I vacuum and clean carpets with the sweet melody of childish outrage in the background. And that, is why there are no profound thoughts in this head today.

Thank you God for this child who has cured me of my laziness.
Thank you God for this house which shelters us from the cold despite the mess.
Thank you God for the salt that seasons our food.
Thank you God for the toilet paper to wipe our bums.
Thank you God for our garbage, because it means we have more than we need.
Thank you God for being here alone, because it means my husband has a job and I can be here with our baby, our blessing.