Monday, December 15, 2008

Peyton's AARP Card

Dear Peyton,
I know you wished to be 71 one years old this birthday-but you will have to settle for 7. I'm not sure what about 71 is so magical to you. You say that you will know everything then. God knows your quest for knowledge is amazing...but I wish you weren't in such a hurry to grow up. I want you to stay my little boy for as long as you can. To enjoy playing in the warm sun and reading books in my lap. Even in sleep I can see your face wrinkled in thought. Trying to wrap your mind around concepts that a child should not be concerned with. You are an old soul. With an ability to read people and relationships that many adults have not mastered. Your social concious is heart warming...but worrisome that you internalize so much of it. I see great things ahead of you...long before you are 71.
I love you.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Let it Snow...Outside

I had all these witty posts written in my head for the past few days-obviously they never actually found their way out of there. In my defense it has been a rather hectic week. Yes, it is normally crazed at the love shack-but it has been excessively so. Luckily my back is feeling better and the terrorists can no longer taunt me safely from across the room. The holidays seem to have them all worked up-even Her Majesty is getting in on the action. Yeah. She only looks sweet.

Tuesday night I bathed all of the little soot gremlins and allowed Cade extra time to soak since he has not been feeling well. I planted my hindend at the kitchen table and busied myself finishing our Advent project. Seeing as the countdown had already begun I figured maybe I had procrastinated long enough.

From my stack of laminated cubes I saw Ava head to the bathroom. I chose to ignore it and hope for the best. After all she had already poured the $22 bottle of Noodle and Boo shampoo down the drain a week ago. Moments later I heard the sound of laughter above the clammer of my eyelet setting. A cold chill ran down my spine. Experience has taught me that laughter from more than one child simultaneously is almost always bad. Worried that getting up may upset the carefully constructed mess I was making I smartly sent Peyton to observe. Over the pounding that was now in my head I heard the bathroom door shut and lock. Silence. Followed by hysterical laughter. I screamed for Amonte to check on them. No response. No surprise either. I hollered to the terrorists. More laughter.

I cautiously placed my fine specimen of holiday craftiness onto the table and prayed for a miracle. Savily I picked the lock while the kids continued their mayhem (being a juvenile delinquent does come in handy on occasion). I flung the door open and Ava and Peyton made a quick run for it; leaving Cade standing naked in the tub with a fist full of wet goo in his hand and a look of fear on his face.

I surveyed the room with confusion. Aside from the floor looking like the aftermath of a Tsunami I really didn't see anything that could have caused even giggles. I mean flooding the bathroom floor is a fairly regular and uneventful occurrence. My gaze went back to Cade's hand. Then I was struck on the head by something large...and sloppy. Maniacal laughter from the naked one and his accomplices in the hall. Slowly I looked up. The ceiling and walls were covered in giant wads of sopping wet toilet paper. Like a freakish spitball fiesta.

Apparently you can have a snowball fight inside. All it takes is two rolls of toilet paper (of course they have to be the last two in the house), a bubble bath and an evil genius. Here's hoping I make it to the New Year.

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