This is my baby REALLY enjoying his 2nd birthday ice cream sundae a few days ago! 

I think we have well established that I love my babies. Right? I mean, I love them more than anything in the world. Really, I do. Please don’t let my screaming, “Brother, come back here!” Or, “OK, TIME OUT!” fool you. I’m sure my neighbors think I’m a mean Mommy because my baby boy apparently goes deaf every time he enters the out of doors.

That’s right. I’ve got a runner.

Let me back up.

It all began innocently enough when I went into Brothers room one bright sunny morning. I was chipper and ready for a super fun day. When I entered his room he was sitting on top of his changing table reading books like it was the most normal place in the world to sit.

After I grabbed him, held him and rocked him because I was so freaked out that my baby could have fallen and gotten hurt I saw the twinkle in his eye.

You boy moms, you know the twinkle that I speak of.

It’s like the Pokey Little Puppy feeling frisky. I just had a feeling that my very own little one was going to have a Pokey Little Puppy kind of day.

Before breakfast we had normal amounts of meltdowns, not sharing, being OBSESSED with exploring the bathroom (which absolutely drives me nuts), ya know, normal stuff.

Then after breakfast we cleaned up and geared up to visit my friend who just had a baby a few weeks ago.

I was feeling great about my mothering as I had explained why we were delivering food and how Jesus wants us to love others.

Pride always comes before the fall ya know. 

After I loaded up the car with the food, bags, snacks, water, etc., I opened the van door and told Bitzy and Brother to get in their seat while baby Nonny and I went to let out the dogs. I was gone approximately one minute. When I got back to the van I was greeted by a little boy holding a pumpkin muffin in each hand and several other muffins that had been tasted and stepped on.

I am not proud of what happened next.

I basically freaked out.

Not in a yelling kind of way. More like a huffing, puffing and completely frustrated kind of way.

I mean, there was 9 (3 were saved) pumpkin muffins smashed ALL OVER MY VAN. I mean, all over. Like the steering wheel, the seats, his car seat, his shoes, his shorts, the diaper bag. It was everywhere.

For one thing I was really sad that I had made these muffins for my friend and now they were ruined, but also, the mess. The completely yucky mess that was all over my car. Did I mention is was ALL OVER? Well, it was.

I honestly thought that I was going to cry. Baby Nonny was screaming, the mess was overwhelming and I was pouring sweat.

An ironic twist in this little story is I had a book sitting in the seat entitled, “Loving the Little Years” that is now completely smeared and covered with Pumpkin Muffins. Ha. Irony at it’s best.

After it was all clean and I was a sweaty wreck I told them I was sorry for being so upset and asked their forgiveness.

So at this point, everyone is okay. We’re shaken, but still intact.

Then, I take my friend her food and we had a visit. The kiddos played and we had a great time. My baby boy still had the fleck of crazy in his eyes, but he did great at her house. Little did I know he was gearing up for the great escape.

After we had lunch and were heading home I knew that all three of my little miracles were exhausted. They are quite obvious about it with Nonny screaming her brains out, Brother whining and Bitzy zoning out. So when we pulled into our garage Bitzy says “I’M GONNA PEE PEE IN MY PANTIES! I HAVE TO RUN FOR IT!” So, I let her out and she runs into the potty. Then, get out Brother and Nonny.

Normally when we pull into the garage I immediately shut the garage door behind us so Brother doesn’t run out. But today I didn’t because I needed to grab the mail. So, when I got them out I asked Brother if he wanted to get the mail with me. He enthusiastically said, “YES MAMA. WE GET MAIL. IT FUN!” After we got the mail and began walking into our house he started running into the neighbors yard.

He’s done this many times. It’s not his first transgression. You see, the neighbors have a trampoline. Which, as you may know, is like the holy grail for a newly 2 year old boy. So he sprinted, straight into their yard, climbed up into the trampoline and started jumping.

Just to recap, Bitzy is inside going potty and I’m holding my 3 month old while my baby boy has ran away from me and is jumping on my neighbors trampoline.

Remember that whole frisky thing?

So I do what any other tired Mama would do, I yelled, “Brother, do you want to go to time-out? Come here right now?” in my most stern Mama voice.

Hahahahahahaha! Are you kidding me? He was in trampoline bliss, he wasn’t biting. Plus, I was way up on my driveway and he was 300 feet away jumping for his life.

Finally, I just called Zach because when I have a major disciple problem, it’s his department. I said, “Brother, your Daddy is on the phone and you’re in big trouble. You better get down!” Shockingly, he did! It was a miracle. Granted, he immediately laid in the grass thrashing and crying, but still, at least he was out. I mean, come on people, it’s not like I’m going to climb up in there while holding a tiny baby. I’m not that crazy.

While he did get down, he wasn’t moving. He pulled one of those limp body tantrums. You know the ones I speak of. So again, mother of the year over here just drug him. That’s right. With my tiny baby in my left arm (football hold), I literally drug my 35 pound son up the hill with him saying “THIS FUN!” the entire time.

When we got in the house I put him in time out and all the sudden it wasn’t so fun anymore. Interesting how that works.

Then it was time for a glorious nap, because let’s face, I was on the brink.

He slept for almost four hours today, so clearly the kid was exhausted which equals acting crazy.

When I went to get him from nap, he was sitting in the middle drawer of his changing table. That’s right folks. Perfectly normal, right?

My dilemma here is that I really don’t want to squash the “boy-ness” of him. I want him to be all boy, to be wild and wonderful and funny and silly. I really do. It’s just the apparent loss of hearing that he encounters when I say something that he doesn’t want to hear that really gets me.

All of you “boy moms” with multiple sons really have my respect. I can’t imagine having more of him.

However, the other side is the sweetness. Ah, the child slays me.  He’s gotta be the sweetest little thing ever. After all of his transgressions today he pats me on the cheek and says, “I SOWWRY MOMMY! I GIVE YOU!” How could I possibly resist him?!

Love my baby boy always and forever….even when he’s frisky.



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