Around my house, you have to stay on your toes. You never know when
a child may charge you for a tackle, I mean hug, or repeatedly kiss you
with slobbery, tiny lips until you laugh so hard tears stream down your
cheeks. Other things to watch out for are unsupervised impromptu painting
sessions at 6:30 in the morning, partially eaten cheese sticks left randomly
through the house, or a mostly consumed diaper (thanks to the dog). It's not
uncommon to hear children competing for who can roar the loudest, hopefully
as they're pretending to be dinosaurs. My four year old also enjoys throwing
a plastic baseball (overhand) down the hall for my two year old to retrieve
for her. "Go get it little boy!" is shrieked repeatedly amidst rolls of laughter
from both. Watch out for when the ninety pound boxer mix wants to join in.
Someone could get taken out.
Just this morning, after reading a lengthy book to my tank of a two year old,
I decided to catch up on email, facebook, twitter... . Without warning he jumped
and dove across my arms and laptop to the couch cushion next to me. How
hilarious! I laughed, tweeted about it, then closed the laptop and suggested
a snack to him. Obviously he wanted my attention. I call him a tank not because
he is stocky or bulky, but because he'll bulldoze through almost any obstacle.
He'd be a great tackle if he ever wants to play football, but his dad plans to
steer him as much as possible into baseball, which I can't disagree with.
Baseball season is a favorite in my family. He is the most determined child
I have ever met. A quality I first noticed in him at six months old. On all fours,
he'd stare at a point ahead of him, and with a surety in his eyes, I could
almost hear his thoughts, I'm gonna get there... . And that was just learning
Another funny, but yet not so funny story from this morning is when he and
I were about ready to pick up his big sister from preschool. I bundled him
up and then realized I wouldn't make it back home again without needing
to use the restroom. I raced to the bathroom. From inside I heard nothing
from my little tank. Not a good sign. I yelled, "What are you doing?!" His reply
was muffled. Not good. He had something in his mouth. I finished with
lightning speed and rushed to where he stood on the hearth holding his
sister's candy pale from Halloween (yes we haven't finished it yet). I
ordered the adventurer to open his mouth where I observed a chewed up
extra large tootsie roll, paper wrapper and all, smooshed to the top of his
mouth. I grabbed a paper towel and swiped the whole wad from his
mouth. He seemed grateful to be free the chewy mess.
Lesson learned, again. Stay on my toes, expect everything, be surprised
at nothing, take bathroom breaks with lightning speed or use restraints if
speediness is not possible (a.k.a. strapped into a booster chair in front of
the tube). Motherhood, without a doubt, is an adventure not intended for
the faint hearted, weak willed, or weak minded, at least not at my house.
To all my fellow adventurers, may you have a safe week, full of fun, rolls
of laughter and tackling hugs.