Phooka's Washdown
Sep. 22nd, 2005 11:41 pmI love my children very much. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
This does not make me any happier about the fact that Bear-Cub is slamming into a roller-coaster puberty at the same time that Phooka is hitting the Terrible Twos head-on. Puppy, apparantly feeling left out of all the emotional angst, has also decided to join in on the fun. Oh, and we're trying to potty-train Phooka. The past week has been one of the more draining ones.
Phooka has been on a learning curve. When she does something that she's not supposed to (most popular to date: get into the non-toddler-proof sun-room and make a mess) she gets told not to do that. If she persists, then she goes to her room for a 2 minute or so time-out. We're getting to the point that the phrase 'time-out' is starting to have effect as a warning. She'll get told not to do FITB, or she'll go to time-out. Most of the time (and especially if she knows that she's being watched) that works.
Except for the sun-room thing. Phooka can open the baby-gates; this we know because we have watched her do it. However, she knows that when they are closed, she is not supposed to go through them. She is allowed to open the for people, and she'll even close the gate behind you. The gates are currently a line marking where she is not allowed to pass, and she has given ample demonstration that she knows this. And yet, for some reason, the sun-room facsinates her. She constantly opens the sun-room gate and goes in. The sun-room is not a safe place for her, and we have no way of making it a safe place. Therefore, we do our damndest to keep her out.
We do have to use the bathroom some time though, and she will waltz right in most of the time even when someone else is in the room. So, she goes to time-out several times a day, and we're hoping that the message will get through soon.
All this was background for what happened yesterday. Phooka went into the sun-room, Phooka went to time-out. 2 minutes or so later, I went back to let her out. I found a naked Phooka, a dirty diaper on the bed, and streaks of brown on the floor and one of the walls.
Needless to say, her hands were filthy. So, I cart the child off to my bathroom for a bath, get her into the tub, and let go of her to turn the water on. This is normally not a problem, because she loves baths and will normally sit down near the faucet with her hands held out under it to catch the water. With what her hands were covered in, this would have been a Very Good Thing.
Instead, she starts scrubbing her face. And rubbing at her eyes. With her hands. Her very nasty, brown streaked hands. And then she started to reach for her mouth.
The shower head in my shower is one of those that's on a hose. I had it down and the faucet switched to shower faster than I honestly thought I was capable of moving. And then I was forcibly reminded that Phooka absolutely loathes getting water sprayed into her face. And that she is quite stronger than her age and size would suggest. And agile. Especially when slippery due to being covered in water. And we mustn't forget that my bathroom has a lovely echo, and that Phooka must have banshee in her blood somewhere, because no human throat should be able to make that kind of sound. We're talking edging on glass breaking here. No, better example: I saw Return of the King when it first released. Remember the sounds that the Nazgul's mounts made? In a full theater, at top volume? That would be Phooka, and I wish that I was even slightly joking about how dead-on that comparison is.
And she kept covering her face, and more importantly, her eyes with her still nasty hands. And rubbing at her eyes. I got her hands washed as quickly and thoroughly as I could, and then I started in on her (by then) brown-streaked face.
I finally had to pin her against both myself and the tub, with her arms held to her sides. I then used my other arm to spray her down. This involved pointing the showerhead at both her and myself. Somewhere in all this, she got her one of her hands tangled in my hair and tried to use my head as a leverage point. I think I could have emotionally handeled the whole thing better if she hadn't sounded scared out of her mind. She kept screaming 'No Tante', and she sounded absolutely terrified. As it was, I was crooning to her through at least part of the wash down, in an effort to soothe her.
louisadkins wound up having to close a lot of doors and our vent so that
catchild wouldn't be a shaking ball. He also brought in a flashlight and checked her eyes to make sure that all the crud was washed out. No, there really wasn't any room for him to have helped my bathe her.
I wound up getting a bath with her after we made sure that all the ick was washed off. She relaxed once she realized that the showerhead was put up, and cuddled up against me when I got into the bath with her. I almost cried when I realized that I hadn't just destroyed her trust in me. I let her play in the bath for a while, and then we got out.
That was not something I ever want to have to so again. The only reason I did it in the first place was because I didn't want to think about what kind of infections that would have caused in her eyes. -sigh- I still feel horrible about it.
This does not make me any happier about the fact that Bear-Cub is slamming into a roller-coaster puberty at the same time that Phooka is hitting the Terrible Twos head-on. Puppy, apparantly feeling left out of all the emotional angst, has also decided to join in on the fun. Oh, and we're trying to potty-train Phooka. The past week has been one of the more draining ones.
Phooka has been on a learning curve. When she does something that she's not supposed to (most popular to date: get into the non-toddler-proof sun-room and make a mess) she gets told not to do that. If she persists, then she goes to her room for a 2 minute or so time-out. We're getting to the point that the phrase 'time-out' is starting to have effect as a warning. She'll get told not to do FITB, or she'll go to time-out. Most of the time (and especially if she knows that she's being watched) that works.
Except for the sun-room thing. Phooka can open the baby-gates; this we know because we have watched her do it. However, she knows that when they are closed, she is not supposed to go through them. She is allowed to open the for people, and she'll even close the gate behind you. The gates are currently a line marking where she is not allowed to pass, and she has given ample demonstration that she knows this. And yet, for some reason, the sun-room facsinates her. She constantly opens the sun-room gate and goes in. The sun-room is not a safe place for her, and we have no way of making it a safe place. Therefore, we do our damndest to keep her out.
We do have to use the bathroom some time though, and she will waltz right in most of the time even when someone else is in the room. So, she goes to time-out several times a day, and we're hoping that the message will get through soon.
All this was background for what happened yesterday. Phooka went into the sun-room, Phooka went to time-out. 2 minutes or so later, I went back to let her out. I found a naked Phooka, a dirty diaper on the bed, and streaks of brown on the floor and one of the walls.
Needless to say, her hands were filthy. So, I cart the child off to my bathroom for a bath, get her into the tub, and let go of her to turn the water on. This is normally not a problem, because she loves baths and will normally sit down near the faucet with her hands held out under it to catch the water. With what her hands were covered in, this would have been a Very Good Thing.
Instead, she starts scrubbing her face. And rubbing at her eyes. With her hands. Her very nasty, brown streaked hands. And then she started to reach for her mouth.
The shower head in my shower is one of those that's on a hose. I had it down and the faucet switched to shower faster than I honestly thought I was capable of moving. And then I was forcibly reminded that Phooka absolutely loathes getting water sprayed into her face. And that she is quite stronger than her age and size would suggest. And agile. Especially when slippery due to being covered in water. And we mustn't forget that my bathroom has a lovely echo, and that Phooka must have banshee in her blood somewhere, because no human throat should be able to make that kind of sound. We're talking edging on glass breaking here. No, better example: I saw Return of the King when it first released. Remember the sounds that the Nazgul's mounts made? In a full theater, at top volume? That would be Phooka, and I wish that I was even slightly joking about how dead-on that comparison is.
And she kept covering her face, and more importantly, her eyes with her still nasty hands. And rubbing at her eyes. I got her hands washed as quickly and thoroughly as I could, and then I started in on her (by then) brown-streaked face.
I finally had to pin her against both myself and the tub, with her arms held to her sides. I then used my other arm to spray her down. This involved pointing the showerhead at both her and myself. Somewhere in all this, she got her one of her hands tangled in my hair and tried to use my head as a leverage point. I think I could have emotionally handeled the whole thing better if she hadn't sounded scared out of her mind. She kept screaming 'No Tante', and she sounded absolutely terrified. As it was, I was crooning to her through at least part of the wash down, in an effort to soothe her.
I wound up getting a bath with her after we made sure that all the ick was washed off. She relaxed once she realized that the showerhead was put up, and cuddled up against me when I got into the bath with her. I almost cried when I realized that I hadn't just destroyed her trust in me. I let her play in the bath for a while, and then we got out.
That was not something I ever want to have to so again. The only reason I did it in the first place was because I didn't want to think about what kind of infections that would have caused in her eyes. -sigh- I still feel horrible about it.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-23 06:46 am (UTC)Glad to hear that she still knows that you love her and will cuddle.
oh no
Date: 2005-09-23 06:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-23 06:55 am (UTC)*hugs*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-23 07:14 am (UTC)Re: oh no
Date: 2005-09-23 01:45 pm (UTC)please keep in mind that of my three kids pooka is the youngest, most curious, inventive, and stubborn. Neither of our elder children did things on the scale pooka does. all children are different, and ones like pooka aren't the norm or the average by any streach of the imagination.
i love all of my children but pooka is more of a handful than most toddlers.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-23 01:48 pm (UTC)actually i was a shaking ball before he closed the vents. and not terribly polite or tactful about why. most of us were triggered pretty badly. (not that you could have done anything else, since you are correct in how much she hates water in her face and that it was vital to get the crud out of her eyes.)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-23 02:52 pm (UTC)Re: oh no
Date: 2005-09-23 04:08 pm (UTC)Heh. She kinda reminds me of my sister when she was Pooka's age. Heather has severe ADHD and she inherited the lion's share of the family warped sense of humor. When she was around two or three, one of the things she'd do was wander around saying, "I want an oh no! I want an oh no!" No one ever figured out what an "oh no" was until she got into a batch of fresh-picked blackberries in the fridge one day and ran around the house with her face, hands, and clothes covered with berry juice. At which point, my mother's eyes bugged out as she cried, "Oh no!" and my sister devolved into a fit of giggles, crying "I got an oh no! I got an oh no!"
So... yeah. *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-23 06:20 pm (UTC)thanks
Date: 2005-09-23 07:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-23 09:26 pm (UTC)Re: thanks
Date: 2005-09-23 09:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-24 03:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-24 04:25 am (UTC)And maybe she'll connect the sprayer to what she did to end up in the tub and not do it next time. I am told that children come to understand cause and effect. My child currently does not. But one day she will. This is my current mantra.
****HUG*****
Gessi