This is dedicated to all the stay at home moms and dads…single mom and dads….who spend years of their lives staring down the barrel of a baby butt-hole. Ok, that was gross, but thought it would help get your attention. I am sure you can appreciate this. This is also dedicated to my dude The Great Zebra Caper…aka Will Hunting. Every time I call him, he puts the phone to the side and screams “Matt, stop it I said!” Our sons are the same age. For those who don’t have children…no, for those who don’t have boys, this is 40 mins in the life of a little 2 year old terrorist.
I wrote a blog a while back about why I call my son a terrorist. Dude is cute as he wants to be, but pushes his brothers off their bikes or trampoline, takes any toy they have, throws stuff at them, yells at them, hits them, tackles them…and they just tolerate him and shower him with hugs. He also runs, screams, and jumps off stuff with no regard to his life. One time I he climbed up on their trundle bunk bed, shimmied across like Splinter Cell, and was just swinging yelling, “Weee!” It is like all 2 years olds have a terrorist network or something. Bad thing is we never experienced the terrible two’s before…they were just terrible from birth. No seriously, our kids usually didn’t start getting bad until age 3. This one is a different breed.
I have the utmost respect for single moms. I came from a single family home, but there was only two of us…and she (older sibling) got married when I was 7. I know I was probably bad when I was little, but man did it really have to come back on me ten fold? Why wife was at a retreat this weekend, and I was left alone with these crazy boys. I tell you, I have so much respect for my wife and what she does on a day in, day out basis. Just trying to keep the house clean is a task. With this many kids, literally one meal can destroy the kitchen…and take you 45 minutes to clean.
Back to this particular episode. Keep in mind that this only documents the activities of the mini-ring leader. I will not discuss how during the course of these events, the other three boys were screaming and fighting one another. (NOTE – For those of you new to my blog, my wife and I have four boys all under age 9. To avoid confusion we number them 1-4). Having this many children is interesting. They all have different personalities which mesh well at times, but when they clash it is epic. They are all very giving, caring, and affectionate (at different levels), but they just have their times. For instance 1 & 3 always fight. Well, 3 tries and 1 just plays with him (6 yr age difference). Number 3 also fights with 2 a lot. He is basically a brat in a lot of ways. During this 40 minutes, there were a couple times when two of our three boys were rolling around on the floor kicking and punching each other. I couldn’t tell who was who, but they were sliding blows in-between me turning my head and making them stop. Ended up just making them sit on separate pieces of furniture. I don’t mind them wrestling and getting their frustration out, but these were one of those times you could sense some body part being bruised, swollen, or bleeding by the end of it. Not that that ever happens in my house (note to CPS), just from what I have seen on TV…lol.
Enough of 1-3, this blog is dedicated to #4. It started with him waking me up screaming at the top of his lungs. I get up, and he is mad because he wanted another apple bar. I instructed his brother to feed him one. Took him about 2 mins to eat it, so afterwards I changed him since he was wet. I promise no sooner than I changed him, 10 mins later he was smelling like a warm Ninja Turtle. I mean like he just crawled out a fresh sewer. Those who have kids and budgeted funds know that sometimes you have to leave a diaper on for a little bit. People without kids tend to have limited patience, and think you change kids immediately. You can, but heck you’d better have a Costco box of diapers in the garage. Especially with my son. He has a habit of grunting every time he gets a fresh diaper on his rump. If you changed him every time he dropped a pebble, I promise you he’d go through a pack and 2 days flat. Kid is super regular. Or heck, premium.
I let him simmer for a second figuring I’d change him after I feed him (since most likely he would need a bath after he ate). I start to clean the kitchen. Yea, all domesticated and stuff ( I’m housebroken). Turn around and baby is pulling the blinds on patio. I tell him to stop. He goes from that, to playing some game under the table with #3 (the brat who taught him all his tactics) where he kept bumping his head. Told him to stop to prevent him from getting a concussion. I get up and load the dishwasher. Turn around and he is clicking on the laptop (which is on the kitchen table). I mean just clicking away. At this point I am tired, so I just smile. About 5 mins later he is sitting in the chair like the hell with it…if you going to let me click, I will go full force. I walked over and pulled up starfall.com and let him play around. Next time I look around, he is behind the recliner (where are Wii controllers charge) pressing the button messing up his brothers game. They made him stop, then he ran off. I finally received a break. Scratch that daydream when I hear a cry. Go to look, and dude was in my office pulling out all the supplies out the drawer. He frustrated because he can’t get the tops off, or get them back in the box. Heck, I don’t know what he was crying about, but I just went in at the right time because he had all the markers out on the floor. Just imagine what he could have done. I tell #1 to come clean up, and go back in the living room and sit down for a second. I mean literally, it couldn’t have been more than 5 mins and BAM…dude threw this NCAA sized football directly into the fireplace. I mean he threw it hard too. I just told him to come give daddy a kiss. He runs over, and as he leaned up, he jumped (being silly) and head butted me in my nose. And I don’t know why, but I have a super soft spot for this kid…and went ahead and kissed his snotty, sweet lips.
Keep in mind, this was all within 40 mins. I go back to the kitchen to finish cleaning and preparing their breakfast, I sat down at the kitchen table for 5 mins to write a draft of this blog before I forgot these events. This is a true story, and the icing on the cake. Obaby bin badboy starts tapping my thigh. He does that when he wants something and is too lazy to talk. I look at him, and he points to the back patio. I am really zoning out at this point because these kids are yelling, and we have vaulted ceilings, so I felt my brain slowly oozing out of my ears. I didn’t know if he wanted to go outside, or if he saw some animal in the backyard, therefore I didn’t pay him any attention. Well in traditional terrorist form, when you ignore their threats, they make you pay!
I write the first draft of this blog (thinking it was over), and go back in the kitchen to cook. I hear the oldest with his dramatic, “Baby nooooooo!” I look over and this kid grabbed the sidewalk chalk, and started drawing on the kitchen floor (near the back door). I mean this kid got at least three colors down before we got to him. Not only was it all over the floor, but his hands, legs, pants and nose. All I could do is laugh. I made his brothers get baby wipes and two tackled him and wiped him down while the other cleaned the floor. He somehow freed himself, and took off running across the living room floor…with chalk on the bottom of his feet. He has wheels too, so they straight didn’t catch him. As I stood there shaking my head, I looked in the backyard at the patio. I saw the art from the kids drawing the other day. I began to chuckle thinking about what he was thinking. I guess he said the hell with it, I will just draw right here then.
I have to admire him though. Kid knows what he wants. He is so cute I can’t even get mad. As I close this, he is sitting on my lap absorbing all my affection. Guess you can call me a lil terrorist lover.