To Live, To Laugh, To Love.
That two year old boy child was at it again all weekend long. I... of course... wanted to share it with you all. So here's a day by day breakdown of his antics.
Day 1:
The Mischievite gets a hold of a green marker. He's a good boy because he hardly ever draws on any walls, tables or windows. My Iyawin has a far more interesting canvas to use--his body. So whilst I was tending to the baby he endeavored to turn himself into a Martian. But he is two so his drawing technique got a little distracted when he discovered that a certain part of his body could be turned green as well. I came out of the bedroom to discover a boy with a green line from collar bone all the way down to the very tip of his. . . . well you get the idea. My son had discovered that the most important area to turn Martian would be the reproductive area.
I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Day 2:
Dear darling boy that I love so much, I actually managed to give him a much needed bath. The green marker was coming off, the dirt covered toes and the sticky fingers were going to be washed. Iyawin was ecstatic (he loves bathes). I put the Remewin down for her nap, I got the Mischievite in for his bath and I went to catch up on my To Do List.
Right, like that was actually going to happen.
Half an hour later I called Ralexwin. "I am done. I'm taking the rest of the weekend off. I'm finished. I'm going to go hide in the basement and sew and only come up for food and water."
"What happened?" He asks distractedly.
"That boy of yours." (It's important to remind the spouse that the mischief comes from their genetics and not your own) "I put him in the bath, then I come to check on him and he has..." I'm laughing/crying at this point... "he has the toilet scrub brush in the tub with him!"
That's right, you guys read that correctly. He was bathing with the scrub brush.
Rebath ensues.
Day 3:
The kids and I went on a walk to find letters for my photo alphabet ::wink, wink, nudge, nudge:: and Albowin announces he has to go to the bathroom.
Now when Albowin says he has to go to the bathroom, you have approximately 0.03 seconds to find one before he pees his pants. And since he'd already wet his pants three times that week I wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with another occurance.
"Go pee in the field over there." I said.
Albowin ran off. I turned to explain to my walking friend the importance of this tactic. "When you tell your child to pee in a public place the trick is to stay far enough behind them (with your back turned if possible) so that--should someone be audacious enough to speak up--you can feign ignorance if they get in trouble."
I turned back around to see if he was to his peeing spot yet.
He sure was! And so was Iyawin. Both of them were standing in the middle of the high school football field with their pants around their ankles and cute little bums out for all the world to see. Just then a car drove past.
And with all apologies to my walking friend, I have to admit that---
I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Day 4:
Sunday--the day of rest, the day of peace and introspection, the day of contemplation and worship. The day Ralexwin sits on the stand and I sit in the pews with 4 kids.
The day Iyawin freaks out because he can't sit with his dad.
It was a little worse than last week. Okay, it was ALOT worse than last week. It might have partially been our fault (since we kept the kids out till 10PM on Saturday) but that's irrelevant.
What's important here is the image of me in a knee length skirt struggling with a screaming, thrashing, hitting, kicking, sobbing child in the foyer of the church. It wasn't going very well.
It was going pretty badly.
So I thought a little fresh air might help. I carried him outside. I loved him, I was patient, I was gentle and quiet and a bit worried about what the other three kids were up to in the chapel (shout out to all my friends who watched them). Iyawin was absolutely incosolable.
He was a mess and he wasn't calming down.
He was such a mess that he lost control of his bladder. . . . . while I held him. . . . .in my church clothes. . . . with my bag in the chapel. . . .with the kids. . . . and the rest of the congregation.
What do you do in moments like that? I'll tell you what I do. A lot of praying that someone will walk past and say 'Do you need some help?'
It never seems to work. One time when Albowin was freaking out in church (when he was about 10 months old) and I was doing my praying, a lady did walk up to me. I smiled because I thought she was going to be the answer to my prayers. She patted my arm, "I remember those days," she said. Then walked off.
I didn't go to church for another 8 months.
ANYWAY... I got him calmed down enough that I was able to leave him in the mother's lounge and go get my bag out of the chapel.
(another shout out here to whomever it was that put the box of diapers, babywipes and extra clothes in the mother's lounge... I totally used it on Sunday).
You can imagine my excitement when Monday rolled around. A new week! A fresh beginning. A doctor's appointment where I can ask if it's possible to up my meds.
Day 1:
The Mischievite gets a hold of a green marker. He's a good boy because he hardly ever draws on any walls, tables or windows. My Iyawin has a far more interesting canvas to use--his body. So whilst I was tending to the baby he endeavored to turn himself into a Martian. But he is two so his drawing technique got a little distracted when he discovered that a certain part of his body could be turned green as well. I came out of the bedroom to discover a boy with a green line from collar bone all the way down to the very tip of his. . . . well you get the idea. My son had discovered that the most important area to turn Martian would be the reproductive area.
I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Day 2:
Dear darling boy that I love so much, I actually managed to give him a much needed bath. The green marker was coming off, the dirt covered toes and the sticky fingers were going to be washed. Iyawin was ecstatic (he loves bathes). I put the Remewin down for her nap, I got the Mischievite in for his bath and I went to catch up on my To Do List.
Right, like that was actually going to happen.
Half an hour later I called Ralexwin. "I am done. I'm taking the rest of the weekend off. I'm finished. I'm going to go hide in the basement and sew and only come up for food and water."
"What happened?" He asks distractedly.
"That boy of yours." (It's important to remind the spouse that the mischief comes from their genetics and not your own) "I put him in the bath, then I come to check on him and he has..." I'm laughing/crying at this point... "he has the toilet scrub brush in the tub with him!"
That's right, you guys read that correctly. He was bathing with the scrub brush.
Rebath ensues.
Day 3:
The kids and I went on a walk to find letters for my photo alphabet ::wink, wink, nudge, nudge:: and Albowin announces he has to go to the bathroom.
Now when Albowin says he has to go to the bathroom, you have approximately 0.03 seconds to find one before he pees his pants. And since he'd already wet his pants three times that week I wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with another occurance.
"Go pee in the field over there." I said.
Albowin ran off. I turned to explain to my walking friend the importance of this tactic. "When you tell your child to pee in a public place the trick is to stay far enough behind them (with your back turned if possible) so that--should someone be audacious enough to speak up--you can feign ignorance if they get in trouble."
I turned back around to see if he was to his peeing spot yet.
He sure was! And so was Iyawin. Both of them were standing in the middle of the high school football field with their pants around their ankles and cute little bums out for all the world to see. Just then a car drove past.
And with all apologies to my walking friend, I have to admit that---
I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Day 4:
Sunday--the day of rest, the day of peace and introspection, the day of contemplation and worship. The day Ralexwin sits on the stand and I sit in the pews with 4 kids.
The day Iyawin freaks out because he can't sit with his dad.
It was a little worse than last week. Okay, it was ALOT worse than last week. It might have partially been our fault (since we kept the kids out till 10PM on Saturday) but that's irrelevant.
What's important here is the image of me in a knee length skirt struggling with a screaming, thrashing, hitting, kicking, sobbing child in the foyer of the church. It wasn't going very well.
It was going pretty badly.
So I thought a little fresh air might help. I carried him outside. I loved him, I was patient, I was gentle and quiet and a bit worried about what the other three kids were up to in the chapel (shout out to all my friends who watched them). Iyawin was absolutely incosolable.
He was a mess and he wasn't calming down.
He was such a mess that he lost control of his bladder. . . . . while I held him. . . . .in my church clothes. . . . with my bag in the chapel. . . .with the kids. . . . and the rest of the congregation.
What do you do in moments like that? I'll tell you what I do. A lot of praying that someone will walk past and say 'Do you need some help?'
It never seems to work. One time when Albowin was freaking out in church (when he was about 10 months old) and I was doing my praying, a lady did walk up to me. I smiled because I thought she was going to be the answer to my prayers. She patted my arm, "I remember those days," she said. Then walked off.
I didn't go to church for another 8 months.
ANYWAY... I got him calmed down enough that I was able to leave him in the mother's lounge and go get my bag out of the chapel.
(another shout out here to whomever it was that put the box of diapers, babywipes and extra clothes in the mother's lounge... I totally used it on Sunday).
You can imagine my excitement when Monday rolled around. A new week! A fresh beginning. A doctor's appointment where I can ask if it's possible to up my meds.
Comments
Oh the joy of boys!
That is so my boy!