Earlier today the kiddos were downstairs playing while I was making dinner. I was running back and forth to keep an eye on them, but my attention wasn’t 100%  focused on the Bean.

Mistake #1.

During one of my trips down the stairs, I started to smell a not-so pleasant odor.  I wasn’t too worried until I rounded the corner to see Beaner standing there with no pants on, her onesie half off and no diaper.

Oh dear God- it’s finally happened. She’s pooped and taken off her diaper. I contained my panic, assessed the situation and started with clean up. I’ll spare you the details- you’re welcome.

After cleaning her (and the basement) up, I got back to cooking- this time keeping both kids on the same floor of the house as me.  The Bean wanted to wash her hands, which 1) was a really good idea anyhow and 2) something she does a lot so I told her to have at it, but I didn’t stay in the bathroom with her.

Mistake #2.

It got really quiet in the bathroom so I sent Scorch in there to check on her.  When he started laughing like a loon as soon as he walked in, I knew there was trouble.  There was the Bean standing in my sink about to open up a bottle of nail polish.  Thankfully, I got there early enough to prevent disaster.

I got the Bean down, had a stern talking to her and then went back to my cooking trying to get dinner on the table early so we could spend the night putting up the Christmas tree.  The kids wanted to play in their rooms- something they do all the freaking time, so I wasn’t too worried.

Mistake #3 (I swear I’m not normally this dumb.)

I heard the dreaded words come out of her mouth: “Yook at me, Mom!”  Into her room I go to find her standing on her dresser. That, right then? That is when my head exploded.

Well, not really, but damned if it wasn’t close.  You guys- this all happened within a 15 min span!!!!

Yet later that night after dinner was finally served, the tree was put up and fully decorated (only one ornament broken!) and I was getting Bean to bed, I actually said to my daughter: “You’ve been such a good girl today!”

That, my friends, is selective memory at its finest.  Either that or good old fashion repression!