*Sigh*

So tonight I'm clinging just a little harder to Avery's snuggles from last night than I usually might.  Yeesh. Oh my gosh, my children!  There are days I just shake my head, because that's really all I can do.  Otherwise, I end up sounding quite a bit like Elmer Fudd:  "Wha-Why-How-Whatwereyouthinkingwhydidyoudothat?"  I stutter, because quite honestly, I just really don't know what else to say, so my brain just starts shutting down.

I bought toilet bowl cleaner today.  On the box, it says the gel tubes should last up to 12 weeks.  Turns out, if your child is an 11 year old with Asperger's, it will last maybe an hour, but probably closer to only five minutes.

Oh my gosh.  

I sent Noah to the bathroom to brush his teeth.  Preoccupied, it took me several minutes to realize I didn't hear any water running, or the sound of a toothbrush, or any noise....  at all.  That meant that Noah was up to something.  I called out, and reminded him that he was supposed to be brushing his teeth.  I heard a lot of water running, but remember...  I was preoccupied.

Noah came out to say good night to us and I smelled something....  fresh.   "Noah, WHY DO YOU SMELL LIKE TOILET CLEANER????"

I trudged back to the bathroom, hearing the Imperial March from Star Wars in my head, dragging my feet, dreading what I was going to see.

OH.  MY.  GOSH.

There, in my bathroom, was the entire 12 weeks of toilet bowl gel, pretty much everywhere:  Noah had gone stamp happy.  On the walls, the shower/tub, the wooden door, the cabinets, the washer, the dryer, the shower curtain, the window, the blinds, and, of course, the toilet.  He'd shoved the empty tubes and the box under some things on top of the dryer, I suppose in the hope that I wouldn't notice the blue gel smeared all over the rest of the bathroom, or the "light, fresh scent" that was beginning to permeate the entire house.


OHMYGOSH.  I just didn't even know what to say.  I just hung my head, pointed to his bedroom and said, "Go."

Now, this is something I can imagine Avery doing (except he would've been wearing it).  I could excuse it if my toddler did it.  It's something I remember cleaning up after the little boy with severe autism I worked with in college decided to shaving cream his bathroom, toothpaste their hallway, then liquid make-up their hallway (fortunately, not in the same day, or even in the same week).  But with Noah, I just keep shaking my head and asking "WHY?????"  If he'd done it once and said, "Okay, so that's how it works," and gone on with his day, I could understand.  I gotta tell you, I'm having some difficulty with this though, I really am.

Hopefully by tomorrow morning I'll be able to laugh at least half as much as you are right now.