October 15, 2001

Cleaning out a closet recently, I found this, written back in 2001 when I was the mother of a two year old boy.

Jacob and I went to buy a mop today. We needed a new mop because a week ago, Jacob managed to separate the old mop sponge from its metal counterpart. I tried to use it nonetheless, but I found out quickly that it is difficult to squeeze out the water when the squeezing mechanism doesn't actually touch the sponge. The sponge simply hangs, dripping wet, and instead of cleaning, only floods the dust and dirt. The only cleaning that took place was the stripping of polyurethane from the hardwoods as the metal part of the mop scraped the floor. Oh, and the wall in the bedroom is Murphy's Oil Soap fresh in a 3x8 rectangle where the mop hit when I threw it across the room.

My temperament lately is much like my two year old son. I can go from Mrs. Happy Homemaker to Cruella DeVille in the time it takes for Jacob to color a royal blue mural on my antique white walls. Which by the way can happen in a nanosecond. In my BJ times (Before Jacob), I always thought it was crazy that parents let their children run around haphazardly with crayons. Now of course, I have a different attitude. My new outlook must come from the sound of Jacob yelling "COLOR" a million times in his unique one syllable pronunciation. Eventually he ends up with the entire 64 pack of "colors". He uses his two year old logic to assume that I have given permission to use anything within his reach as a canvas. Hence the royal blue mural on my antique white wall.

I'm sure Jacob could relate to my anger when I threw the mop. If he could speak in adult conversational form, I'm sure he would have told me, "Mother, that is EXACTLY how I feel when I am in the middle of an artistic moment and you take away my royal blue crayon."

Well, after a week of no mopping, we went shopping. Okay, it was two and a half weeks. We walked around with DIRTY socks from our DIRTY floor for two and a half weeks. But really, how clean can a floor get with a two year old in the house? Scrubbing the floor lasts just long enough for a toddler to toss from his high chair the leftover cupcake- frosting side down. Isn't mopping just a waste of time?

I guess what changed my mind was when Jacob sat in the floor, pulled off his socks and said, "Shoo, nasty."

Okay, off to WalMart we go.

The first aisle we went to at WalMart was the mop aisle. The battle began... Why would we ever assume that a two year old would want to sit in a buggy when he could run around the store pulling things off shelves and eating the Halloween candy fresh from the bag? I guess this same question went through Jacob's mind while we were standing in the mop aisle because as I'm shopping for a childproof mop, he decides to stand up and announce that he wants "DOWN". After a two year old tantrum, we compromised and I held him. If he only knew how nice that buggy seat really is. I would love to sit while someone pushed me around WalMart. Maybe it's the lack of a footrest.

Well, together we found a mop that I had high hopes would survive a toddler's curiosity and somehow I convinced Jacob to sit back in the buggy. The next battle was convincing him that the mop was not a toy. This was a hard job considering he had a lovely time tearing apart my old mop two and a half weeks ago. I tried to put it out of his reach, but to no avail. Why are toddler's arms just long enough to reach everything you don't want them to reach? God's sense of humor, I guess.

I tried to make a game out of it. "Hold the handle of the mop so it doesn't fall out of the buggy, okay?" That lasted for about twenty seconds until he realized he was a true baseball player at heart and needed some batting practice. If I could look into the future and see that he is going to become a superstar baseball player and buy his parents a mansion, a maid (to mop, of course), a chauffeur, and a buggy designed for grownups (footrest attached), then I would have allowed him to hit home runs in WalMart with that mop. But, without my ability to see into Jacob's future, I decided to take the mop away. I laid it on a stack of Halloween candy and explained to Jacob that we would come back to get it on the way out. I might as well have been talking to the Reese's peanut butter cups under that mop, because Jacob was testing his lungs and never heard one word.

After the tantrum, we managed to put some plastic storage containers in the buggy (just call me Mrs. Organized Wannabe.) I also got some lotion, Pringles, Reese's cups (couldn't resist), two outfits for Jacob, and some conditioner. Jacob found some cheese crackers he wanted and we made it to the checkout counter. Paying was pretty uneventful, except convincing Jacob that we had to let the cashier scan the crackers. We made it to the car and drove home in peace (because I was constantly giving him handfuls of his new snack). It was when I finally unloaded the car that I realized we had never gone back to the Halloween candy section to pick up the mop...

Did you see that coming? I'm sure you did.

Well, Jacob and I had Reese's cups for a snack before our nap and I even graciously shared my Pringles with him, like a two year old Cruella DeVille should.

And our feet are dirty still.

So the next time you are at WalMart and there is a a young mother with a toddler on her hip staring at mops looking for a sticker that reads, "THIS MOP IS TODDLER RESISTANT", please carry the mop for her to the checkout counter. She may have a tough time getting it to the car, but she will have a much better chance of getting it home than if it is sitting on top of the Halloween candy.