Dirt Magnet

When you were in school, you probably did that experiment in science class with metal shavings and magnets. How cool was it to see all those little bits of metal stick right to the magnet?

Johnny has the same principle going on, but what he attracts is dirt.

Pre-kids, I did less laundry over the summer because shorts and t-shirts take up less space in the washer than jeans and sweaters do. Recently, especially over the last week, I've been doing more laundry than usual, and it's totally because of Johnny.

Let's see...he needs to get outside everyday, regardless of the weather, because otherwise he jumps on the couch, tortures the cat, bothers his sister, and in general creates chaos wherever he looks. It's been terribly hot and humid, so every time we go for a walk, we all come back sweaty and red-cheeked and in need of a good shower. So that means wet towels to deal with and sweaty clothes to wash. On any given day, he goes through three or four sets of clothes.

Last Wednesday, his bowl of oatmeal somehow ended up on his lap during breakfast, so his jammies needed to be washed. After Sesame Street, we went for a walk, and when we got back, all three of us took showers and changed clothes and Maureen went down for a nap. Johnny insisted on dressing himself, which meant his t-shirt went on backwards. He got his snack, yogurt, all over it, then realized the shirt was backwards and turned it around, moving the messy side to the back. After refusing to use the bathroom, he had a poopy accident in his pants, and two pee accidents, which required new underwear and new shorts, and all the towels that I used to sop up the puddles because we were out of paper towels.

Each time he went to wash his hands, he forgot to move the hand towel out of the sink, so it ended up completely soaked. He did this four times, soaking four towels.

During Maureen's second nap, we went in the backyard to water the new trees. I turned the hose on a trickle and gave it to him while I pulled weeds, but he managed to make a huge mud puddle and sit in it, then tried to rinse his legs off, thus soaking his shirt. I ended up taking all his clothes except his sandals off and literally hosed him off, which he thought was a riot. So all those clothes went into the wash.

Then, while Maureen sat in her highchair and ate smushed peas, he decided the floor was dirty and he needed to clean it...with his pirate bandanna dipped into the cat's water bowl. The bandanna is apparently not color safe because it dripped black water all over the floor and all over my throw rugs...which, you guessed it, needed to be washed.

The next day, he opened the fridge, spotted a bowl full of sliced cantaloupe, exclaimed, "MMM! Watermelon!" and snatched it up. He walked around eating the slice, dripping juice everywhere, then abandoned it, half eaten, on the coffee table, and went on to touch things with his sticky hands.

He has learned how to use the ice dispenser on the front of the fridge and will decide that he needs a drink of water. So he gets ice, dropping several cubes on the floor, then fills his cup up to the brim from the bathroom sink, then proceeds to slosh it all over his clothes and the floor before he even takes a sip.

Basically, every little thing he does makes a huge mess and I'm exhausted from always trying to be one step ahead of him to prevent the disasters. Unfortunately, he's too darn smart for babyproofing supplies, he figures them out on no time flat.