From the minute he woke up this
morning, Little Mister was in full-on toddler mode, and he kept it up
all. day. long. I couldn't seem to figure out what he wanted at all,
and nothing I did was the “right” thing in his mind. Tonight, at
supper, we had pizza. He was excited about this! He loves “peepah”!
Waiting for it to cool down was torture.
“Peepah! Peepah!” I gave him two tiny slices. “Peepah! Peepah!”
Yes, Mister, you have pizza. “Peepah! Peepah! Peepah!” Yes.
That's pizza. Eat your pizza, buddy. “Peepah!” (Insert tone of
growing desperation, as mommy obviously doesn't understand what the
problem is.) I stared at his plate. Hmm. I usually cut his pizza into
small pieces, not slices. Could that be the issue? I took his plate
and started cutting it up. His tone changed to one of excitement
again: “Peepah! Peepah!” Yes. Got it. I hand him the plate. It
took him all of 3.2 milliseconds to determine that this particular
pizza was “bleh”. Apparently, tortilla crust is not an adequate
substitute for real pizza dough. So much for my supper shortcut. He
didn't eat any of it.
And while this toddler drama is playing
out, I am listening to my older two kiddos. Biker Dude is telling me
that he wants to be a grandpa when he grows up. “Why?”, I ask.
Well, it's so he can tell his grandkids all about sea creatures
(we're on a bit of an Octonauts kick here of late). Mountain Girl
wants to be a grandma when she grows up. But, “I don't want to have
a woice (voice) like you, mom. I want to keep my same woice. I like
my woice. Your woice sounds like a boy. Say something. Mom, say
something.” Me: “Something.” “Oh, you don't sound like a boy.
You sound like a dirl (girl).” Well that's a relief. :)
And the new girl was sleeping soundly
in her swing.
They're all asleep in their beds now.
The wind is howling outside, blowing in a storm I'd guess. The floor
looks like there was a windstorm inside, too. Toys are everywhere.
There are dirty dishes in my sink and crumbs on the floor. Someone
left the lights on downstairs. The dryer is full of clean clothes,
ready to be folded. And it's all okay. :) Yes, the mess bugs me.
Mostly because I know that after I deal with it tomorrow morning, my
house has a 9 in 10 chance of looking the same way it does now by
late afternoon. But for tonight I will dismiss the mess and relabel
it as “the signs of life” and I will sit and relax for a few.
Life with little kids... It's messy,
and it's glorious. It's both tiring and energizing at the same time.
It'll drive you crazy... and yet, you'll wonder what you ever did
without them. Yup. It's love.
"Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him."
- Psalm 127: 3 (NLT)
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