The boy who drove his mother mad.

TFB is in a frazzled state of late. The baby has set on a course to drive his mother mad. MAD I TELL YOU!! Its amazing how much stress the wee creatures can instill in the short course of a day.

So I ask you, and really, I am not above whining, why will my one year old child NOT stay OFF the kitchen table? Seriously. I think I must remove him 100 times a day from the table. There are SIX chairs, its not like I can hide them in the bathroom. There used to be a fruit basket on the table, but as I found him sitting on the table, taking one bite out of the apples and then chucking them on floor, I've since removed it.

My day kinda goes like this:

7:30am: wake up, get children up and dressed

7:45: Remove baby from table

8:00am - serve and eat breakfast

8:30am -Clean up breakfast, and remove baby from table

8:45 - Empty Dishwasher, clean dishes, remove baby from table

9:00am - Remove baby from table

9:02am - Remove baby from table

9:05am - Remove baby from table

and so on and so on...

He's moved on from just the kitchen table and now will resort to climbing on pretty much anything that is higher than him. Like for instance this past weekend we had a BBQ in the yard with friends. After dessert was served to all the older kids, they took off to play and left their plates on the table.

I turn around and this is what I found:

Laying low and sneaking dessert remnants from his sisters plate.

And looking mighty proud of himself too.

What?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Someone please tell me this will be a very short lived phase?

Meh.

I think I might just go out to the garage and grab some rope and tie the bloody chairs to the table. That'll learn him...that and the rest of us will have to stand to eat, but hey, I will have WON!!

Sherpa in the Making....

Eric and I were discussing what we'd like for dinner, (read too friggin hot to cook, who shall we call to do the cooking for us....pizza won cause I am so sure you care) the boy and the girl were playing in the yard...but despite the baby wandering around, the house was quiet. Eerily quiet. Far to quiet with a 13 month old terror crawling around. We both realized this, panic, and so the great baby search begins. Eric figured he'd slip through the baby gate and hightailed it upstairs, so he tore up the stairs in search.

Meanwhile, I stayed on the main floor as I thought I could still hear the baby, yet, strangely , I couldn't locate him. I go into the main living room and I am standing there. Listening. I hear a sound behind me. I figure its the boys pet rats in their cage. I turn around and find a little rat all right:

"Here ratty ratty ratty"

"Daddy, why are you so white?"

We've since rearranged the furniture.

Now if we can just get this child to put that much effort into actually walking....

Winning Awards All Over the Place

My brother bought the kids tamagotchi's for Christmas. Virtual pets. Nice. The boy has been very attentive with his, ensuring its fed, its "poop" is cleaned up and playing games with it. My daughters is permanently on pause.

So while making lunch, the boy comes to me with this little perplexed look on his face.

The boy: Mommy, something is wrong with my tamagotchi.

I take the thing and I see the a little blob with no face and angel wings.

Me: Um...(stifling giggles, cause I am warped like that) I am sorry boo,(yes I call him boo, move on) but it died.

Apparently he was sidetracked and had ignored it for the entire morning. Who knew tamagotchis were so sensitive to neglect.

His little chin starts to quiver and tears well up in his eyes. He looks devastated. He really had tried to take good care of it and had somehow, become attached to the little electronic pet.

Me: Oh no,giggle, giggle its okay (running frantically around the kitchen looking for something small enough to poke into the reset button, all the while stifling giggles) We can, giggle, just hatch a new egg, giggle. Maybe, giggle, it will be a boy this time. Its just like video game. You just have to start over.giggle giggle giggle

The boy is looking at me with great sadness, and here I am finding the whole situation utterly funny. I am going to hell, I just know it.

Better start saving for my kid' s therapy now.