I’ve been quite lax about writing. Most days I don’t feel I have much to say, but in reality, I do. I always have something to say. After getting hassled by Hasselbot.com for months, typically 2-3 times daily, I decided today, 19 days into the new year, I’d be better about writing. So here goes!
I love my 3 children, don’t get me wrong. But my 4 year old son will either drive me to drink more heavily, cause me a headful of silver hair, or potentially give me a stroke, all before I’m 42. I am fortunate he was #3, as my daughters would never have existed had he been born first. He does it all. He’s fearless. He’s without sympathy. I’m not sure he even understands why I’m angry at him for coating the leather couch in ketchup. Why I’m pissed he poured a gallon of veggie oil down the bathroom sink. Sam, why did you think it was alright to pour oil down the sink? “I don’t know”. Its his standard answer. It also makes me want to reach around his neck and hurt him. But he’s lucky I’m not violent, and I’m also able to control myself. “Remove yourself” I tell him after he’s cleaned up his mess. Cleaning up his messes makes him tired, apparently. Although he’s not tired enough to sleep. He’s not too tired to go onto his next project, finding a small bottle of puffy paint from somewhere and smearing it on the wood floor.
Do something with the child, I can hear some of you say. I do! We play games, we bike, we ride scooters, we take walks, we play on the play set, sandbox, go to classes at the Early Childhood Center. Apparently I can not wear him out. I could spend hours on the floor building train tracks with him, and when I go into the bathroom for a break, he’s already into something. He’s stealthy. He’s quiet. He’s quick. Sam would make a great professional assassin one day. He’d never be caught. I don’t know how he does it.
But after he’s made me so angry I’m ready to pull out my 2 inch long hair, he smiles at me, that charming smile he’s been so fortunate to be born with, puts his arms around me and says, I need a kiss. Charmer. I’m still angry with him, angry he can’t “get” it. But I’ll take the hug and kiss. No one can imagine this child is such a mischievous little devil. Live with him for a day. You’ll see.
Santa brought Sam a dust buster for Christmas. He wasn’t very happy about it at first, but now his house cleaner is his and only his. No one else is able to touch it much less use it. This is alright by me. He’s cleaned up more of his messes in the past month than ever before, and proudly with his noisy house cleaner. He can put it back on the recharger by himself. He needs help emptying the collection area. I don’t mind helping with this project, but the flour he poured on the floor is still in there for some reason, even after being vacuumed out several times. Go figure.
I’m at home today, no car, 3 kids. Should be an adventure. I think I need to find a better uniform to wear for such days. Maybe something along the lines of a Viking helmet, shield and sword. I’m a warrior today. I’m sure the kids will have me tied up somewhere around lunch.
