I kind of hate weekends.
By Friday, it is clear that Moe needs a break and I do look forward to having Jeff around, but the lack of structure on the weekends does not work well for Moe. He gets bored, but also has trouble occupying his time. He doesn't want to be engaged in an activity, and even when I can get him to sit down and do some puzzles or Mr. Potato Head, it's for all of about 2 minutes. The iPad can keep him occupied for maybe 15 minutes before he starts to overload.
Frankly we are at a loss as to what to do with him. Outings are exhausting, though we try as much as possible. Yesterday we went to a pumpkin patch. Jeff spent 45 minutes chasing Moe around, resting only when Moe stopped to play in the straw. At one point I found some pumpkins that were very bumpy and Moe sat and played with that for approximately 37 seconds. I tried to pose the kids for a picture during that time, at which point Moe grabbed and scratched Jelly's arm, and that was the end of that.
So we took a drive up to another town about 15 minutes away and stopped at my favorite of the 30 or so bubble tea places within a one mile radius. We all got watermelon juice and listed to Jelly complain about why Moe got to ride in the stroller and how she was "having a hard time" walking. Also, Moe pulled gum off the bottom of the table and stuck it in his mouth. I was shockingly unfazed by this.
We got home and started a bath for Moe. Jeff finished up, got him in his pull-up and let him have some down time. And by "down time" I mean time to go in his room, take off his pull-up, climb into bed and spread poop all over. Jeff put Moe in the shower where he acted like he was being water-boarded and I took care of the sheets and other cleanup in his room.
Moe, once again clean, was this time put into a pull-up and his zip up the back pajamas. Jeff and I were finishing up cleaning when we went to check on Moe, who was now in the kitchen (the gate to which is merely a suggestion at this point). He was reaching up to the counter with his hand in a tub of margarine, out of which he had clearly just eaten a large scoop. He looked like he was both about to puke and take another bite.
We turned on the TV, hoping that might keep him still for a few minutes while I made dinner. Moe sat down nicely to dinner, but I couldn't stop smelling poop. The boy still stunk. So after dinner, it was back to the bath, this time with a pretty serious scrub down. Meanwhile, I returned to his room for another round of cleaning, sprayed everything with Lysol and opened the window. Once again clean and jammied up, the boy returned to his room, where I caught him seconds later by the open window, covered in something. My heart sank as I thought it was more poop, but became overjoyed when I realized he was only playing with dust that had accumulated on the window jamb. He was kind of covered in this stuff, but at that point I decided it wasn't anything a baby wipe couldn't handle.
Besides, by that time I'm pretty sure we were out of hot water.