7 Dec 2009, 3:31pm
life
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  • In my napsack stash

  • A Three Year Old’s Logic

    For us big humans, when coming in contact with a little human, it’s hard to shift gears and see all things so innocently and creatively.  Being a stay home mom, I tend to stay in the low gear, mentally, and I have to turn it up a notch when coming in contact with other big humans.  God forbid my sentences come out garbled and toddler-ish.  But they do.  And it’s mortifying.  The instance I could share would make my ears turn red all over again, so we’ll skip that part.  Just know that it happened.

    But on to creativity and innocence. 

    My son has got the mind of an imaginative genius.  And I know that there has to be certain criteria to enter his world.  Sometimes, I’m allowed and other times I’m put on probation because I’ve violated the rules of “no holds barred” imagination.  Yes, he gets angry at me because I stepped in his “water” and messed up his “houses” and killed his “guys”.  And should I EVER dare to step into his “dark, dark wood” I would be banished from his world immediately or get my leg hacked off with a plastic knife.  Shoot, who would make him breakfast? 

     Papa has already survived a near hacking.  Thank God for mommies who know how to take care of men who have been in a fight with a pirate…

    Even when it comes to eating, my little mind traveler has a particular way of doing things.  In my last blog, I posted a picture of our unfortunate stick of butter.  (For those of you who didn’t read that blog, go take a look)  My son is obsessed with butter.  Literally.  First thing in the morning he will chatter off a list of food that he wants to eat.  And 100% of the time bread with butter is on that list.  At the restaurants he finds the little butter packages and greedily digs into it, ruining his shirt and whoever else happens to come into contact with his greasy paws.  This morning was no exception.  He insisted on the usual.  So I gave it to him.  But then he starts this horrible smacking.  I stared at him about to tell him to stop, but then I felt really bad because he was really enjoying himself.  He was eating his bread with such gusto and making sure to eat every piece that was smothered in butter.  The end result was almost like the remains of a watermelon.  The juicy parts gone and the rind discarded.

       

     Finally, I couldn’t handle it anymore and asked him to please close his mouth when he eats.  He tried and didn’t like it. 

    Me:  Cylas, please close your mouth!  Like this (demonstrating)

    Cylas:  (closes his mouth and then it smacks wide open again)  But mom I haaavvvee teeyyeeww.

    No, Cylas you don’t HAVE to smack while you eat your bread with butter.  Its disgusting and sounds akin to a small calf eating its oats.  Is this when I sigh, admit defeat and decide that I should choose my battles wisely?  Maybe I should worry about his other obsession.  Ladybugs.  Yes, he likes ladybugs and eating them.  *gag*  He thinks it’s really cool and I don’t.  I think Roma has copied him a couple of times.  The evidence on her lips.  A poor little wing all wet and soppy. 

    *sigh*  Or maybe I should just loosen up a bit and fall into the snow and make snow angels in my church clothes.  Yes, that’s what Cylas did before church yesterday morning.  He ran outside, flopped himself into the snow and made an angel.  I was appalled and delighted.  Appalled because he was soaking himself through and delighted because he wanted me to lay down with him and flail my arms and legs wildly.  Maybe next time…

    The beauty of your blog is that you see the wonderfulness (is that a word?) in the simple things your children do. That is a gift, cherish it. They grow too fast to miss those moments. Thank you for sharing your everyday adventures with us. Now I must turn my attention to my four year who is telling me she is growing up to be a dot! love and miss you!

    8 Dec 2009, 12:45pm
    by Jana Floyd

    reply

    Absolutely charming.

     

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