Sometimes, when I start to post about how wonderful I think my children are and how much I love being a full time mommy, I stop and think this is going to bite me is the bum very soon. Just yesterday I swooned about my children and the gods punished me for being a boastful mommy.
My little man is going though a little terror phase. Before this, he was just a force of nature destroying everything in his path, but now it is calculated. I can see the glint of mischeif in his blue eyes and a devilish grin appears once he has concocted the plan he will carry out. It might be that he is curious of the physics of certain objects around the house, so in the name of science he throws them down the stairs and then laughs in delight of the crash, bang, boom and brokeness of it. The same can be applied to parmesean cheese shakers and food that he has decided tastes "yucky." Or perhaps it is finding the perfect instrument with which he can cane his sister. Today it was a rod to hold up a play tent and when I took that away, he found a sports flag and started whacking her with the stick end.
This morning I found him standing in his crib, in the buff, surrounded by the poop that was in the diaper he had already taken off for me. Yes, he stood there, in his own sh**, smiling and saying, "Stinky poopy, Mommy. PU!"
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