Dirty Little Secret

We sat baby Judah down in the grass today while we walked around the yard and talked about our garden.  While he's a mostly content little fellow, he wants to be held a lot and doesn't usually like grass.  So, in the back of my mind I was fairly impressed that he was happy there for as long as he was.  He wasn't even looking around to see if we were nearby.  "Good baby," I thought to myself.  "He's learning to entertain himself."

Pfff.  Please.  I scoff at my own stupidity.  By now, I should know better.  I should have known what it was that was keeping him so wholeheartedly occupied.

DIRT

DIRT

MORE DIRT

You know what else I should have known?  I should have known that if you are a two year old who sees their parents and siblings laughing hysterically at the baby who just ate dirt, you are going to sneak away and eat dirt in secret too.  After all, it might taste like candy and even if it doesn't, everyone will think you are some kind of comedic genius. Claire came around the corner while I was snapping Judah's picture, spitting and wiping her tongue, saying, "Eees not taste good."  

   Whoops.  Well, lesson learned I guess.  Dirt not taste good.  

Beetle Juice

"I did it Mom! I actually scared you! Bahahaha!"

This from Micah, who is supposedly my most tender-hearted and affectionate child. What elicited this gleeful squeal? 

THIS

I was doing a seemingly insurmountable stack of dishes. I unscrewed the lid of a green sippy cup, stuck my sponge in to wash it out, and came out with this.  Now, I'm not particularly afraid of beetles, but this is different.  They aren't supposed to randomly appear in cups that I'm putting my HAND into.  So, true to the plan Micah had played out in his mind, I screamed very loudly, threw the cup straight up in the air, and it and the beetle landed in the sink.  I put on quite a show of jumping and squeaking and other ridiculous shenanigans in an effort to calm myself down.  Micah was very proud of himself.  Congratulations my little prankster.  You did it.

For those of you who are wondering, he told me that he put it there on purpose because he knew I'd be doing the dishes and have the ever living crud scared out of me.  I'm not sure if this is actually true or if he just wanted to keep it, but he and Emma are always trying to scare me by jumping out from dark places, bringing me fake bugs, etc. and usually fail.  This time, he more than made up for all previous failures.  

The Many Uses of a Pocket Knife

Micah was so excited, he could hardly stand it.  Daddy brought home a pocket knife for him.

"Look Mom!! It's a pocket knife, and it can be a file, and a bottle opener and scissors!!"

Now, the idea of a five year old with a pocket knife terrifies me.  I tend though, to be overly cautious and I generally try to rely on Joseph to train the boys to be boys.  After all, I grew up with my mom and sisters.  I know very little about how to turn a boy into a man. I asked Micah if he had been told the rules about how to handle it.  He said yes, but I gave him my own set, just to be sure.  Then at breakfast, he started filing the table. Nope. That is a tool, it is not meant to be used like that.  Not cool.

"Ok Mom.  Sorry.  I won't do it again."

Alright, I'm down with an apology.  What's a little property damage in a house with four kids? I'm used to it, and he seemed sincere.  Then they started playing outside.  They know that they are supposed to stay in the backyard, but Claire had wandered around to the side.  I called out to them and told them to move around to the back deck for lunch.  Emma and Micah were excited to eat.  Claire was not.  She tried to run from them, in the opposite direction of where she was supposed to go.  Micah yelled out,

"Don't worry! I'll get her!"

He promptly pulled out his pocket knife, opened the blade and started trying to herd her with it. She ran and screamed and giggled, and started moving in the right direction.  Mind you, he was never going to poke her with it.  He wasn't even close to her, and he doesn't have it in him to hurt anybody, especially his little sister.  (She is aware of this and bullies him relentlessly).  He was playing with it like he does his light sabers.  But STILL.  My klutzy five year old was running with a knife, toward another human being.  A pocket knife is a tool indeed, but not that kind. Not a sister-herding tool, and apparently not a tool for a five year old boy.  Maybe we'll try again another time in the distant future.

Ding Dong

Yet another reason I love having children : When they repeatedly doorbell ditch, you can open the door and throw a glass of water on them.

Anything For Chocolate

The kids have been following me around begging me to play freeze tag with them. They seem unhappy with my version (pretending I'm not paying attention and slapping them in the face, yelling 'FREEZE!' whenever they venture near). Now, I've been playing hide and seek for the last half hour or so, and am not particularly in the mood to play freeze tag. So I tell them that if they pick up the house, which currently looks like a tornado blew threw, that I will play. During this negotiation, Claire runs by with my last bar of dark chocolate. I scream. Emma declares, "Whoever catches her gets to eat it!!" Frenzy ensues. Absolute madness. I guess they found a way to make me chase them after all.