Bad Mommy

If this post doesn't land Alex in a nice foster home, I don't know what will.

We had a landmark day in the Evans household today, one that included two calls to Poison Control and several mild panic attacks.

This morning, I was packing some things in the computer room while Alex was playing in his room. He wandered down the hall and into the bathroom, where he usually just plays with his bath toys. I heard him banging toys on the tile floor. I heard him sing into the rinse cup to hear his voice echo. I heard the cabinet door below the sink slam shut. OMIGOSH, I heard the cabinet door below the sink SLAM SHUT!!

I rounded the corner and peered into the bathroom, where Alex sat on the floor, clutching a large can of Comet toilet bowl cleaner in his hands. The floor around him was littered with piles of blue powder, and a thin layer of powder covered his upper lip. EEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeekkkkkkkk!!! I snatched the Comet out of his hands and pried his lips open to see if his tongue was blue. It didn't appear that he had actually ingested any of it, although he did stick his tongue out and touch his upper lip with it as I picked him up to clean his face and hands.

I got the number for Poison Control off of the internet and spoke to a guy named Kim who said that there was probably nothing to worry about, that if Alex was really affected he would be coughing and vomiting and probably crying. He was doing none of the above, so Kim said to give him some food and water and watch him for 30 minutes or so.

Fortunately, that incident didn't amount to anything. Unfortunately, Alex considered that to be a failed attempt and decided that he needed to redeem himself. After his morning nap, I sat him in the "Alex-proof" living room while I made his lunch. I turned to the microwave to warm up his green beans, thus turning away from Alex, who was busy making music with his tambourine and his vocal chords. As I opened the microwave and grabbed the green beans, I noticed that things in the living room had gotten eerily quiet. Oooh, I thought, that's a bad sign. I glanced into the living room and saw that Alex was going to town on Murphy's Greenies dog bone. He had half of it in his mouth and was chewing away, and when he saw me looking at him with an awed expression on my face, he grinned and tons of green slobber poured from the corner of his mouth.

I debated about whether to call Poison Control again, but decided "better safe than sorry". I hit redial on my cell phone and immediately thought, please please please let it be anyone but Kim. Seconds later, Kim answered the phone. I was completely and utterly humiliated, and he was completely and utterly amused. He had the same advice as before - give him water, feed him, and watch him. I told him that I hoped to never talk to him again, especially not today, and he agreed.

I'm sure you're thinking, That has to be the end of the story. There is no way she'd take her eyes off that kid after two calls to Poison Control in a single day. Oh ho ho, you people give me way too much credit. I swear, that kid can reach a no-no and get it to his mouth faster than I can stop him. I can be staring directly at him, watching his every move, and suddenly he'll grin at me with a huge chunk of something non-edible clamped between his teeth.

By the end of today, Alex had attempted to eat Comet toilet bowl cleaner, a Greenies dog bone, a handful of Murphy's food, a piece of cinnamon-scented potpourri (that he was sucking on like a cough drop), and the rubber stopper from the end of the door stop in his bedroom. I was hoping he would have a taste for unusual and exotic cuisine, but this is ridiculous.

In conclusion, Alex is safe and healthy and there is no need to call DHS or worry about his well-being whatsoever. And tomorrow, I plan to duct tape him to my back so that I can be sure that he stays out of trouble and I don't have to write any more shameful posts like this one...