Thursday, September 26, 2013

For reasons she won't explain. Gestated Cinco is bound and determined to pull the phone off the shelf and onto her head. Again. She apparently thinks it's still her best hope for rescuing.

As of tomorrow I will have an attic. An insulated attic that is. An attic in which I can lock my children. Oh did I say that aloud. I mean, an attic in which I will lock my children's clothes and various other things that they continue to outgrow yet I seem to still need. This will go a long to to clearing out my living room. And hopefully taming the zoo that is our home. Although, as we will all still be living here, it's a minor victory.

I was stopped at a traffic light, puzzled as to why my car was rocking. Much to the father figure's dismay, I keep the bass turned way down. So it wasn't that. I craned my neck and saw X-Man rocking out. There really is no other way to describe it. He was literally rocking his carseat, fortunately anchored, back and forth while thrashing his head and kicking the back of my seat. I am impressed with that boy's power.

It's not so much that the boy has soul. More that as he is now in a big boy bed, in a room full of toys that no one else can bother him in, he kinda skips out on the nap. He'll stay in there for three hours, enjoying his peace and quiet. As a result, as we head off to afternoon soccer, he's bound and determined to do whatever he physically can to keep himself from passing out. Because you never know what exciting things you might miss in the commute to soccer.

Cinco enjoys the show. She starts squealing, with then encourages him further. Then she gets even more excited. Today, the joy cumulated in a thrown binky. Which hit me in the head as I was driving. The arm on that child is most impressive. Of course, both were startled when I let out a yelp. The three older kids didn't even lift their eyes from the Calvin and Hobbes they were reading. I caught the two little ones exchange looks of wide eyed concerned, followed by more giggling. I think X-Man was hoping Cinco would stumble upon another binky.  My clean driving record appreciated her inability to.

I used to think that typing while nursing was hard. Now I miss those days (does that make me sound old?). While typing this, Cinco has gone from bouncing herself on my leg, to laying on my leg gnawing my knee, back up and vaulting towards my nose to holding my thumb and licking the keyboard. We're calling it a night.

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