Wednesday, February 27, 2013

2, to, too, two

in october we celebrated with cake and candles, balloons and streamers. 2 years since heaven lent itself and our family expanded.

mild, calm, snuggler, dormant. complimented on all ends from every adoring, admiring friend about his content personality.

and somehow his lack of vitamin D in the form of bikes, sand boxes, and swings have led to my son being two.

my friend had twins that could sniff out a sharpie marker from a mile away at the age of two and plaster one another's faces in 15 seconds quick.  and so the sharpies were eradicated form every corner and nook of their home. only to find that they forgot one in the hidden tool box in the garage.... and again another week of black sharpie covered faces were presented.  the shame and anger i remember her going thru.  of course i was hysterical with every blood hound like hunt for the sharpie... it just kept on going.

cereal.  he can sniff out every piece in my house and spread it from top to bottom.  crush it, smash it, spread it, hide it for the next round. placed on the highest shelf that even i can't reach without  a stool, no use. showering has become a luxury unless shackles are brought out to keep him from next escapade.

liquid in any form.  whether it be the kind he produces or the kind he is given to drink. it is spread, spit, launched in any form. spread from here to there.  i fetched every secure cup possible to halt the chaos.  there is no cup he cannot conquer. IV's are the only thing i have not yet explored. just eating a meal is 1/2 hour clean up.  water spit at other kids while eating, soup dumped down the front of his body for decor, dripping down the table and soaking every crevice. why on earth did i think white cabinets were a good idea.? it's as bad of an idea as white carpet. really, poor. they are scoured once a week.

too.  to every pancake no matter how flat, there are two sides.  the other side of the two pancake are the squeezes around my neck.  he strokes my hair and says with admiration, "you hay fretty mama." or he will ask squealing, "you love me mom??" with his voice in total amazement. it gets me every time.

or how about when he watches his favorite show, NACCHOOO LIBRRREEE, and yells it, just like that.  his requests to wrestle in sacrament meeting can't be ignored and often i feel like someone should be dinging a bell with the last amen as i walk out slapped, punched, and wrestled....

his cousin of 3 months old was at his mercy the other day when the baby was in the swing and rowan was holding an adult size tube of toothpaste shoving it in his mouth. it was when the red tube of lipstick came out and he was instructing the baby, "this is lady paint, so pretty" that i had to laugh.  a three month old covered in bright red lipstick would have caused tears and i feel lucky i caught him before the first stroke went on.

this too shall pass. and one day, my heart will long for two.