Little Monsters
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
It's exactly one week before school starts for the kids.
I'm hanging on by my teeth.
Today, three-year old Sean got into a set of markers and colored his arms and legs a solid blue, black, and green. Yesterday, he climbed into a sudsy bathtub with his brother -- fully clothed. The day before that my little monster managed to break Jennifer's bedroom lamp, and joyfully cracked her hamster cage in half (with the hamster still in it).
When Sean gets into her things (which is about every 5 minutes) Jennifer bellows, "Sean go to your room NEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOW" dragging out the "now" in the same way I must do. The other day I woke up to Sean's pitter-pattering feet, up and down the hallway, which can only mean trouble. I found him in his bed with a collection of everything he's not supposed to have: batteries from the television remote control, two pairs of scissors, and several bottles of Ibuprofin (Thank God they were empty. Rich explained later that he'd left them on the kitchen counter to be thrown away.)
We need a diversion, an adventure, or as one of my friends suggested -- I need a personal spa day! The appeal of riding bikes is long gone. When summer started, Jen and Ryker had enough spunk to ride all the way to Excelsior and back. Now I can't even get them to ride two blocks without complaining their legs hurt. It hasn't exactly been bike riding weather anyway-- the recent, much-needed rain has cooped us up inside our teensy, weensy, tiny, whiney house!
(And yes, I'm probably the one who has been whining most!)
Looking back on it all, Sean's fully-clothed swim in the bathtub was especially humorous. But instead of finding it funny, I freaked. Where's the handbook on surviving summer? Especially these last few weeks before school? I need one!
What soap is to the body, laughter is to the soul. --Yiddish Proverb
I'm hanging on by my teeth.
Today, three-year old Sean got into a set of markers and colored his arms and legs a solid blue, black, and green. Yesterday, he climbed into a sudsy bathtub with his brother -- fully clothed. The day before that my little monster managed to break Jennifer's bedroom lamp, and joyfully cracked her hamster cage in half (with the hamster still in it).
When Sean gets into her things (which is about every 5 minutes) Jennifer bellows, "Sean go to your room NEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOW" dragging out the "now" in the same way I must do. The other day I woke up to Sean's pitter-pattering feet, up and down the hallway, which can only mean trouble. I found him in his bed with a collection of everything he's not supposed to have: batteries from the television remote control, two pairs of scissors, and several bottles of Ibuprofin (Thank God they were empty. Rich explained later that he'd left them on the kitchen counter to be thrown away.)
We need a diversion, an adventure, or as one of my friends suggested -- I need a personal spa day! The appeal of riding bikes is long gone. When summer started, Jen and Ryker had enough spunk to ride all the way to Excelsior and back. Now I can't even get them to ride two blocks without complaining their legs hurt. It hasn't exactly been bike riding weather anyway-- the recent, much-needed rain has cooped us up inside our teensy, weensy, tiny, whiney house!
(And yes, I'm probably the one who has been whining most!)
Looking back on it all, Sean's fully-clothed swim in the bathtub was especially humorous. But instead of finding it funny, I freaked. Where's the handbook on surviving summer? Especially these last few weeks before school? I need one!
What soap is to the body, laughter is to the soul. --Yiddish Proverb
Cheri-
Boy does that story bring back memories. Jack climed into the bath with Beck when he was 2 or 3 with all his clothes on and a poopy diaper!!!! 6 days till school and counting-
Lisa