5 days ago
Friday, October 31, 2008
I never got around to taking all 3 of my kids to the pumpkin patch. I picked up our pumpkin at Trader Joes the day Baby Girl cried hard in the store and I thought she was having an allergic reaction to her one-year shots (she wanted my coffee). The days fly by and the weekends have been full of other activities (baseball and the never ending birthday parties). There is about 25 minutes in the morning that I have to kill with The Little Guy after the Big Guy is dropped off at school. On this day I brought along my camera and thought I would get some shots of him in the Pumpkin Patch. Keep in mind this was about a week before Halloween and there were less than 20 pumpkins left. It was sad. It was also sad how The Little Guy agreed to getting 2 pictures made and then suddenly changed his mind. No go. He wouldn't look at the camera and wouldn't cooperate for anything. No bribe worked and I was mad. Now, I don't approve of getting mad at your kids for not looking at the camera, however, I am human. I don't ever get mad at other kids for not looking at my camera. This kid is difficult, though! He is difficult just for the sake of being difficult. I'm going to use one of these pictures when Webster calls me to add one to "Stubborn" in the dictionary.
I just won't get into the whole thing. But, did I mention that he snuck out of "quiet time" a week and a half ago and stole my big fat black Sharpie? If you are a mother, I'm sure terror filled your heart as you read that. It is just as bad as you are imagining. It has been years in my house (6 to be exact) since scissors have been kept lower than 6 feet. Play-Do and markers are not accessible - not even the Magic Wonder invisible variety (I am not taking any chances). I didn't even have my bathrooms unlocked for children to enter on their own until my oldest was completely potty trained and I had to. My husband and I used to walk around with the little pick locks to go to the potty. I learned my lessons the hard way too many times. I'm just saying that I don't leave Sharpies hanging out around the house. I do have one, though. Who doesn't need a Sharpie? I label lunches, clothes and all kinds of school related things not to mention sippy cups, bibs, etc. It is essential to my kitchen. Unfortunately, The Little guy stealthily (is that a word?) came down a flight of stairs to get said Sharpie and took it back to his room where he "accented" a table and chairs (that I had hand painted). He had to go to the bathroom so he took his new Sharpie along for the ride. White bathroom...black Sharpie. Not good. He colored the white door, door knob, bathtub, toilet, toilet seat, floor tile, grout, shirt, be-hind, thighs, face (stray marks) and his very important private part (no jokes here). On top of it all he wet his pants. He managed to get the poop in the potty and a very small part of me was so happy about not having to clean the carpet (again) that I didn't go insane over the other stuff. I think I probably grunted and huffed and puffed a lot when I found this disaster. I don't think I could process most of it and certainly couldn't verbalize what I was thinking. As usual, I asked him "why did you do this" and he insists "I don't know"! That makes me want to pull my hair out. I also wanted to pull my hair out the next morning when I found him at the kitchen table coloring in a book with that same Sharpie and he had a big black mark going across his face. He must be the next Houdini. And all I have to say is he better be rich one day to buy me a new house.
Thank you to all the Moms that sent Magic Erasers my way. Just so you know, all his body parts are back to the normal color now.