A Flood

I almost lost it today. Seriously. D1 is REALLY pushing me. I really thought I was going to lose it on her. Had to make her leave the room, had to walk out of the room myself, before I :

A. Left the house and drove straight to Vegas, never to be seen from again.

B. Let loose a verbal assault that would lead to a good 5 years of therapy for us both.

Maybe I'm over-reacting. Maybe it's hormones ( I really, really hate it when people say that, though). Perhaps I just need a better sense of humor. Or maybe it's just as I've outlined in previous posts: I'm sick of cleaning up the freakin' messes.

This morning I put D2 down for her nap. Then stayed upstairs for 5-10 minutes picking up some things and mentally organizing my day. My parents were coming up in about an hour, in the evening my Mother's helper was coming over. Not having cleaned(what's new?), I was trying to mentally prioritize - "ok, who cares about mopping the floor and the handprints on the windows, I'll just clean the powder room, wash some dishes and maybe vacuum the family room."

As I'm upstairs I can hear D1 playing at the sink. Not something I like, but whatever, not worth running downstairs immediately for, I can stop her as soon as I get down there. WRONG.

I walk downstairs. She's on the couch in the family room, leaning through the cut out window that looks into the kitchen - and is directly at the sink. She has the rinsing hose in her hand. The kitchen is a lake. IT IS SOAKED. I'm not talking a few streaks of water. I'm talking serious water. HOMES comes to mind. Lake Huron is on the floor in front of the sink. Ontario is on the other side of the island, Michigan is under the table, Erie is on top of the table and Lake Superior is on the stove. I had the god forsaken Great Lakes in my kitchen. Water was dripping from the ceiling, running down the cherry cabinets. My toaster oven no longer lit up and smelled like it was burning - obviously now fried. The paper work on the desk was a big ink slurred mess.

I was pissed.

"D1 go upstairs. NOW" I had to walk out of the room myself. Call my Mom and freak out on her. Call my husband and freak out on him.

It took 5 jumbo beach towels, 3 large bath towels and 8 dish cloths to soak up the mess. And all of the towels were drenched. I still haven't gone down to the basement to see if any water damage hit the ceiling above the kitchen. I just don't want to know.

As I was cleaning up the mess, D1 came downstairs, her head held low.
"Mommy, I want to tell you somethin"
"Yes, D1"
"I sorry"
"Ok, D1, but can you tell me why you are sorry"
"Yes, Mommy. I sorry cause I want to come downstairs now"

Preschool starts in 12 days. Not that I'm counting.